Shattered Prime
by Darth Krande
Summary: Megatron of the Shattered Glass is hosting an Optimus from another universe. Some, like the local Prime, won't take this well. Sooo doesn't follow official Shattered Glass.
1. Hanging

I gave up waiting for my beta. This complete fic was sitting in my drawer for over a year, and wanted out no matter what.

Shattered origin can be found here: s/7391659/1/Shattered-Origin

Shattered flight can be found here: s/7524962/1/Shattered-Flight

Shattered Prime: see below :)

* * *

**Shattered Prime**

When you look into the mirror, you might see the opposite of whatever should be normal... or you might see Real Life in there.

**Hanging**

Megatron was hanging from the ceiling of his enemy's berthroom, silently, motionless. There were few lights in the place, and the voices of a mech and a femme in the distant hall could hardly be heard. There were other Transormers' dead bodies hanging like an upside-down collection, like a horrible reminder of what he had done to the mech who now lived here. Autobots, Decepticons – they were all equal in death, unsorted, as if each corpse had been hanged wherever the evil Prime found some space for them. Waspinator, who'd been believed to be a natural survivor until fate had recently found him. Starscream's former boss, the proud Skyfire. Beloved, threacherous Lugnut. Two out of the eight Constructicons. An innocent neutral named Bludgeon. Zippy, speedy Blurr, now reduced to a cube. Members of the three-parts gestalt known as Reflector. Dark gray bodies, charred beyond recognition. Someone in a sealed box. Body parts that must have fallen off a rusting figure and have not yet been put back to their places.

Right next to Megatron was his trusty assistant, Soundwave. To their little comfort, they've both been alive. The odd-one-outs silently hoped that they wouldn't be spotted as the room's owner would come in for his recharge. Soundwave was still busy with the security system he'd been fooling – theirs had been the only energon signatures in the collector's room for a long time. Megatron tried to relax. He remembered why they were both here now, waiting for the Prime to fall into recharge. _Do you have the complete list? _Soundwave nodded. He didn't seem to mind the idea of taking some spare parts, but he obviously disliked the risks and unwanted challenges of the mission. Megatron wasn't exactly happy, either, but it was the fastest way of aquiring the needed parts. He didn't hesitate for long. The Insecticons had told him that there wasn't much time to waste.

He remembered back. It'd happened almost two orns ago, but it was still hard to believe. There was a Prime with him. A Prime whom First considered to be truest of them all. Optimus Prime.

Megatron remembered waiting for him in the deep space, at the coordinates Retcon had given. Astrotrain was so eager to come! And finally, there they were, waiting for the broken mech's arrival. Vector Prime didn't make them wait for long. The wreck of an ochre Autobot flagship appeared out of nowhere. There were so many shootmarks on it, especially on the bridge, it seemed impossible that there was anybot functional aboard. Megatron took off from Astrotrain's hold, and carefully entered the ruined vessel.

He'd found the mech in the pilot's chair, mostly blue, red and gray, repeating „Till all are one" in a weanened voice that still held the power of the very strong. Most of his faceplates were missing, his mouthplate was almost gone. There was some broken glass in his chest that was obviously missing an important part. _The Matrix of Leadership,_ Megatron realized. _He was holding the Matrix right next to his spark._

„Till... all... are... one!"

Megatron nodded as he carefully attached towing cables to the badly damaged Optimus Prime.

„Yes, till all are one. Where's your left arm?" Not that he'd expected an answer from the almost offline mech. „Starscream, I'm ready. Pull us back to Astrotrain!"

That had been two orns ago. The first orn was spent with stabilizing the broken Prime's systems and trying to prevent them collapsing again. At the beginning of the second orn, the Insecticons arrived. It took the whole swarm to repair the most menacing wounds and bypass the damaged circuits. When Megatron asked, they gave him a list of parts that had to be replaced, most of them, urgently.

Now, at the end of the second orn, this list was in Soundwave's processor.

There was some distant light, and Aira's voice could be heard. She gave the darkness-afflicted Prime her opinion. By the Prime's reaction, this was uncalled for. The femme continued nevertheless, and Megatron had to admit that she had a point: if the dark Prime hadn't exhausted himself this often, he wouldn't need to refuel this soon. Megatron bit back an apology. It was his fault that the Prime was now running on dark energon, addicted to it for what seemed to be the oncoming eternity. His once-shattered frame had rejected energon, as if it was poison for him. The silver miner kept blaming himself for the Prime's condition.

At least Aira was there for him. She came as soon as she got the news of what had befallen to her rival. Megatron tried to gather as much information about her as he could. Aira was a technorganic once, more advanced than any of her colleagues. Not even Soundwave could get what exactly happened to her, but she'd lost her organic self, and she was left 'crippled', completely mechanical, like any other robots of her size. Megatron guessed that she was staying with the Prime because she was the only one who could understand what he had gone through, and he also guessed that the understanding was mutual. As much as the sight of the duo had pained him, their cooperation and relying on each other had warmed his spark.

Not that his guilt could have prevented Megatron from doing what he had come for. He fixed himself to the infamous ceiling, relaxed, and pretended to be another element of the horrible collection hanging from the ceiling of the berthroom. Soundwave seemed to be doing it a lot better.

The Prime came, stumbled to his berth, and dropped offline without even looking up at his extended collection of passed-by Transformers. The two living elements of the collection exchanged cautious glimpses, then lowered themselves to the ground and started what they had came for.

Megatron took the position opposite to the berthroom entrance, so that he could spot Aira if she came this way. Soundwave caringly took the Prime's black helm in his palm, making sure he wouldn't wake up during the process. When he was sure he had the dark one's mind under control, he nodded to his silvery leader. _For your information, I very much disagree with myself._ Soundwave nodded without a click. Megatron grabbed the chest panels of the mech, and pulled them open. He wished there was any other way of getting spare parts for the other Prime.

The red and blue mech was still offline after two orns of repairs, his central energon pump hardly following the rythm of his faint, weakly pulsing spark. According to the Insecticons, repeated damage to the left side of his torso had offlined him in the first place. The other wounds seemed superficial compared to the damage of his energon distributor and filter systems.

„Ring-shaped central cable valves" Soundwave said in his melodic, calming voice. „They should be directly above the air intakes."

Megatron took a close look at the devolved central cable. It should have been pulsing with life-giving energon, not standing uselessly and dry. He wondered how dark energon spread in the shattered mech's purple frame, because it didn't take the same way as energon did, for sure.

_At least he won't be missing these,_ he told himself. He handed the ring-like component over to Soundwave who subspaced it without a word of complaint. _What's next?_

„Secondary abridger unit" Soundwave replied. „Or the primary one, if it's easier to remove."

_No way I would take out his primary abridger! Where is that supposed to be?_

Soundwave relayed technical information, while both of them kept watch. Neither of them were comfortable with this visit (_robbery_), but most Decepticons were either unable or unwilling to mass-shift, and this mission required stealth and going unnoticed.

Megatron was wrist-deep in the fine instruments of the purple mech when Soundwave gave him the signal for retreat. Having finally found the abridger unit, Megatron took it out without hesitation, as if he was taking a precious gem from the hard rocks of the mines. He closed the chest panels, and transformed to his small pistol mode as he winched himself up to the ceiling.

_Is there anything else we need to take?_

„A complete left arm" Soundwave whispered.

_I've already ordered the replacement._

„You have ordered everything, because either this Prime or the other will..."

Soundwave couldn't continue his sentence. Aira entered the room, suspiciously watching the oddly inert purple Prime.

_Do we need anything else?_ Megatron asked, as if he hadn't known what were on the list. Facial panels and a mouthplate. Optic glass, but he had already dropped the idea because he wanted the optic's color match that of the remained optic. Chest glasses, but he wasn't sure they could take them without breaking one.

Aira stepped closer to the purple Prime, and Megatron knew she would notice the bent chest panels any klik by now. It was time for them to be elsewhere.

A flying pistol left through a joint gap of the large building's dome. A thin and steamlined lamp post followed. Neither would have admitted it to the other, but they were highly relieved to leave.

Megatron wondered for an astrosecond whether those many Transformers whose rusting bodies had been hanging from the ceiling would have agreed to the two Decepticons using them as cover. But maybe that was all they could do against their killer.


	2. Primary repairs

**Primary repairs**

„Any news from the depths of Dream Engine?" Megatron asked as the duo landed on the shore of the Rust Sea. He wasn't a mech of long speaches, but he enjoyed the luxury of not having to mentally whisper anymore.

„All Dream Engine levels are safe and quiet" Soundwave answered in his melodic voice. „Guest is in induced recharge, and the Insecticons are waiting for our arrival."

Everything smooth, so far. „Tell them that we will be along in three breems."

Not waiting for Soundwave to acknowledge the request, Megatron leant back to the liquid rust and continued thoroughly washing the cable valve. He knew from experience how effective rust was against dark energon, and now he could feel the loose part heating up in his hand as the less disgusting material came into chemical reaction with the traces of Unicron's essence. It was almost free from the ghastly matter, but Megatron didn't precipitate. He steeped the component into the liquid while still holding it on his palm, grimacing whenever a wave reached his other parts. He knew that he was rustproof, but he still didn't like his endurance being tested. It was getting irksome.

He looked into the distance, watching the Dinobots fishing for oxide sharks in the shallow Metallic Bay. _Life pretends to be perfect sometimes_. He raised the cable valve up to optic level, and waited for the rust to splatter.

Soundwave was already waiting for him at the peninsula known as Dreamwave. The entrance to Dream Engines was only a hop skip away from there. And on the sixteenth level of the Dream Engines mine was the treasured, broken mech, kept offline by the supervising Insecticons, awaiting for the spare parts Megatron and Soundwave were bringing.

* * *

Megatron was standing in a distant corner as the Insecticons finished their part of Optimus's repairs. The Decepticon leader couldn't be of any use at this point, but he couldn't simply go and dig energon in some peaceful tunnel while his guest was lying unconscious on a workbench. _CR_ _chambers_, he remembered. _A lost art._ He just stood, trying not to be underpede.

„We we have done our best" Shrapnel finally announced. „Optimus Optimus will only need a little luck and a lot of energon. Processors processors and memory chips are in much better condition than what I dared to hope. His his refiner systems are functioning on 11,38% capacity" he explained.

Megatron nodded.

„That that is one thing. The the other would be making sure he suffers no other physical damage to the left side of his torso. Almost almost every component there needs to settle."

Megatron nodded again. Dream Engine was the most stabile part of the mines, full with good-quality energon but there wasn't one actively mined vein in the area.

As soon as the Insecticons left, Megatron walked closer to the broken Prime. He looked so graceful, even with the many wounds. The Autobot flagship must have been under heavy fire before Vector Prime sent it to this universe. _Thank you, Retcon_. He scrutinized the mostly repaired face. Maybe the mech wouldn't have wanted to be seen without his mouthplate, but it could not be replaced until the welds abrade_. I wish I could grant you some privacy, but until then, all I can do is keep the others out of here. Take your time and heal, Optimus Prime._

The Prime slowly moved his head. He turned towards the ceiling, and even his colors seemed to have turned brighter. His remaining optic tried to focus, and when it finally succeeded, the first thing he could see was...

„Megatron?"

„Am I that easy to recognise?"

„Anytime" the mech answered. Confusion was clearly written on what was functional of his face. „What do you want from me now?" Was he... scared? Rather, he was simply aware of his inability. Maybe he felt helpless.

„Just relax" Megatron said in a voice that wasn't meant to be commanding. It earned him a dignified, sad sigh. Megatron wondered if he was only imagining things: he could have heard air coming out of the freshly repaired chest panel as the components arranged themselves to their proper positions. It wasn't until several astroseconds that Megatron recognised a shade of well-concealed fear. He remembered what Vector Prime told him about the mech's recent past. He was used against his own kind after his death. He must have felt vulnerable, in addition to his already-exposed wounds. He must have also mistaken him for his enemy... _There's no easy way I could explain the difference._ And what was the difference, really? _First_. He could very well be the only reason he was different from the other Megatron, the one who had caused most of these injuries.

Optimus Prime had been lying there, inertly, barely aware of his surroundings, thinking that he was in the hands of his enemy.

„Do you know where you are?" the miner asked. First had told him often enough that Cybertron was present in all universes, he'd been their home in every world. „Do you recognise Primus?"

He waited for the answer, swiftly dropping the idea of explaining himself. In less than a klik, the mech gave a hesitant nod. Finally, he seemed to relax.

* * *

The touch of cyberium alloy was familiar. He knew the material well, it was enduring yet comfortable to the touch: most of their weapons had been made of this. So, what he was lying on, had to be some sort of weapon. Oddly, it felt more like a recharge berth.

He tried to move, but he was too weak for that. Anything could be done to him. He couldn't have defended himself, and he seriously wondered if he still had the spirit to do so. After what was done to him... after he was almost forced to kill his successor as a Prime. He was able to fight back, then, before he would have hurt any of his friends, but he knew that was the last of him. He thought he was even too weak to function. But... he was regaining his strength.

It wasn't exactly like lying on a normal recharge berth. Those created an artificial power field that resonated to his spark, and helped his taxed systems repower on its outer energy source. This wasn't like that. He was surrounded by real, Cybertronian energon, nascent, pure. No wonder his structure reacted to it so well.

Even the Matrix felt to be close. Not like when he was holding it next to his mostly dead spark. It was something very much alive, and he could feel his spark hesitantly responding to its life-force.

„Shrapnel said that he would need a lot of energon" Megatron said_. Master, thank you for coming_.

„I'll stay with him until his spark of life gets stable." Optimus recognised this voice. But could it be? It was Primon, sometimes referred to as Alpha Prime... his first-ever guide in the Matrix. A mech he had never met in person, but had known and relied on ever since that fateful orn, many million years ago, when they have first met, when Orion Pax died.

He saw Megatron leave the room. He could sense the other mech's energy signature, one that was so similar to that of the Matrix he could no longer hold. He often reached for the wisdom of the Matrix back then, when he was alive. He had experienced death. This didn't even feel similar to that either... so what was it?

„You are safe" the familiar voice reassured him „and you're under the care of a good friend of mine. You will discover more by yourself, Optimus Prime. We all wish for you to get better."

He would have leant back, hadn't he been lying already.

„Are you the Matrix?"

„I'm one with it, like I always should have."

* * *

Keeping the curious mechs away was one of the hardest task Megatron had undertaken in the past few hundreds of vorns. They've been changing shifts with Soundwave, but sometimes even their combined efforts seemed futile. As soon as they told the (also recovering) Cliffjumper to mind his own business, they had to snatch a curious mine captain before he could have disturbed the Prime's recharge. There was only one who could sneak in unnoticed, and the Decepticon leader nearly short-circuited when he saw the white Recordicon curled up right on Optimus Prime's torso.

„Ravage!" Megatron hissed. „Get the slag away from there_!" Did he have to choose Optimus's most wounded panels to recharge on?_

„Please..." the weak voice of the once-powerful mech was almost pleading with him. „Let him stay."

Megatron peered at the Recordicon's victorious gaze. „Keep away from his wounds" he demanded in a slightly softer tone. Ravage stretched out with his whole frame, then elegantly walked to the Prime's head, and pushed his forehead to the mech's less-wounded right cheek, purring all the time.

* * *

Perhaps not even Primon had expected him to recover that fast, but after only a few orns of proper maintenance and good recharge, Optimus Prime got off the berth. He decided to roll out of the tiny room, even if walking would have been more convenient in the crooked ways of the energon mine. He wasn't sure his legs could support his weight at the moment. He transformed and started his engines – it felt great to have his frame filled with real, Cybertronian energon. The use of Earth fuel, a liquid of organic origin, was polite and practical at the time, but he was ready to admit that he missed the taste of home.

There was a narrow tunnel leading from the room, but its ceiling was missing here and there, revealing a lot wider corridor above him.

„Bah weep graaanagnah wheep ni ni bong." He replied to the universal greeting on reflex, before even identifying where the voice had come from. He transformed back to robot mode, resting his back against the energon-rich wall. There were many things he missed, but the silvery mech he was facing was definitely not one of them.

„Don't you think it's a little too early for you to carry a trailer?" Megatron asked. His mocking sounded unusually cheerful and much less hostile than what he was used to. And what of the trailer? He would have felt bare without it.

„You don't mind the lack of your mouthplate, but you need a trailer to get around?" _And First calls __**this**__ a weird mechs' world?_ „In that case I will get you a rolling cicerone." Megatron grinned and sent a short message on a private frequency. „She's coming" he announced only a klik later.

They scrutinized each other as if they'd never seen each other before. The Prime was larger than the Decepticon, even if only by the length of a broken aerial. And what did he see? A mech with an oddly red Decepticon insignia, dark gray helm, but otherwise he looked exactly like the Megatron he knew. He recalled Primon's words about being in an upside-down universe, and he wondered what it would take to believe that explanation.

A motorcycle joined them, pink and unlike any Cybertronian he'd ever known. She transformed into an elegant robot, she was even exotic in a way. Her large head-kibbles reminded him of a bunny from Earth.

„Optimus Prime, this is Cy-Clone, my advisor, my courage, my honor, my strength. She will show you around." Then, he turned to the pink femme, leant close to her so that the front of his helm slightly touched her forehead. „Don't let him get into trouble"he whispered.

„I won't."

The two pairs of optics focused on each other, pink arms twisted themselves around a fusion cannon and a barrel, palms of sturdy miner hands rested gently on shoulder-mounted wheels.

Optimus decided he'd better believe what Primon said about this world being upside-down.

* * *

It was brightest day on the surface, a lot brighter than Optimus expected it to be.

„You could see all three stars around Primus from that hilltop" Cy-Clone suggested. „But maybe you shouldn't climb even more than what you already have" she added, returning to the semitruck's side.

Optimus looked around. Maybe he was in darkness for too long. But three stars at this proximity? He stood there, amused and shocked at the same time. Now he understood why were there seemingly infinite resources of energon in the mines, even after Megatron having mined them for many hundreds of vorns.

„You seem to like this place" the female Decepticon noted.

„Indeed, Cy-Clone. It feels like coming home."

„You are home, Optimus Prime. Your world is the same as ours: it's Cybertron. The difference may be the mechs who inhabit it."

„We never had three stars, but those explain a lot" the Prime replied. „We've been fighting over resources, and we heedlessly lived up what little was left. You don't need to fight."

Cy-Clone laughed dryly.

„Mechs hardly fight because they'd need to" she said. „But of couse they come up with some reasons to do so. Usually. Fighting is in the programming of each of you. Perhaps that's because you've been created by the light during its multiversal battle against chaos" she pointed out in a self-assured tone. If there was an advantage of being partially gobot, it was the way she could look at the matters of Primus and Unicron without predilection.

„But we have been created by a peaceful god. We long for peace even if we cannot accomplish it. Our hope for it gives our strength" Optimus stated. „I believe in freedom and peace, and I'm grateful for Vector Prime showing it to me when I was lost in darkness." Optimus transformed to robot mode but remained lying on the warm ground, and rolled to his back, bathing his mostly repaired frame in the light. „Elita would love this place too."

Cy-Clone didn't have to ask who she was, Optimus's tone said it all. „Where is she?"

„Home" the mech replied. „We never had much time together ever since I became Prime. Maybe I should have been more thankful for the vorns we spent together before the war."

He tried to remember Ariel, the young femme who later became Elita-One. He allowed his processors a flashback, but as soon as he lowered his conscious defenses against memories, he felt the shot in his chest, the painful heat of a fusion cannon... being dead for the first time in his life.

He remembered Elita-One, the female Autobot who was killed and rebuilt along with him, whose systems had matched him, and whom only he had matched.

„What does she look like?" Cy-Clone asked. Optimus brought his newly replaced left arm's built-in monitor to life, and turned so that the bunny-like femme could see the display on his lower arm. She could see video recordings and still shots of Optimus's partner. She most liked the photo of her sitting with one leg stretched out and the other knock-kneed, her head turning towards her Prime. She was elegant, she was beautiful... and she was pure Cybertronian.

* * *

Optimus spent the rest of the orn exploring the immediate surroundings of Dream Engine and the surface above. He met at least sixteen Decepticons, none of whom were hostile, not even distant. He was especially fond of the home-delivery group: the Stunticons' eagerness to show off was truly sparkwarming without the malice he had expected from them. Runabout and Runamuck told him about their late Autobot master's tiny courier company, and about the help of the mech whom these mines once belonged to. They informed him of how their former owner slowly accepted to be a link in a world that would separate mechs from each other, how he'd bought Wildrider, Breakdown and Drag Strip so that they wouldn't be pulled apart. Runabout mentioned how Runamuck had found the then-unnamed fourth Stunticon being beaten by some overenergised Autobots, how they had called for help and how Blurr arrived from the other side of the planet in mere astroseconds. They told him about the formerly enslaved Decepticons being freed in Tarn and Vos, and how it swept through the planet in joors. Most Autobots were obviously disappointed at loosing their workers and scared of them at the same time, and Blurr bought Motormaster before he would have been smelted down as he was too strong to be trusted without a programming that forced him to be obedient and docile.

„We got our slave codes eradicated, and then we returned to Blurr" Runabout stated proudly.

„That exactly!" Runamuck added. „It was our lesson, afterall. Our task was to connect, never to break up what's functional together."

Optimus was deep in his thoughts as he rolled back to Dream Engine and succombed to recharge. Cy-Clone asked for his permission to stay in the guest's room, but she wouldn't say why she wanted to be there.

When he rebooted, the pink femme was gone, and this time, he was accompanied by a tiny golden mech, shining as if he was a drop of electrum on the wall. When he stood up, the bat-like Recordicon spread his wings and flew around him in a circle before attaching himself to the wall at the Autobot's optic level.

„I'm glad to see you're doing much better" the small mech stated without an introduction. „You should have seen yourself when you were brought here. Your central energon ducts were so scraped, I wondered how you could function at all."

Optimus agreed with him. He lost track of whether he was alive or not, but he was getting better and better.

„Do you think you could keep some refined energon down?" Ratbat asked. „This way, please."

Optimus followed him on foot until they got out of the crooked tunnel into a much wider corridor where he could roll easily. He was truly healing. Maybe his self-repair system had onlined when it felt that he wasn't a hopeless case anymore? Being allowed to rest in Primus's embrace was the best that could happen to him. But he couldn't understand these Decepticons.

He'd seen some miners as he'd passed them while following the discursive flight of the tiny golden mech. He had even recognised some of them. Frenzy had his unmistakeable dirty mouth, Soundwave was monitoring some distant radio signals, Wildrider performed an amazing flip while coming down the almost vertical wall of a shaft, transforming in the last moment before landing on his feet. They've been all doing their jobs, and they seemed to be content about it. He was greeted with a friendly wave of servos here and there, joyful acclamation, and he couldn't help but transform and return the kindness. Ratbat had to interfere.

„Later, mechs, all right? Later!" he circled between the guest and the miners.

He lead Optimus to a storage and aired the code to open the safety doors. For the worth of the pure high-grade in there, it was a simple code. The doors themselves were thick and sturdy, they reminded him of the doors of the warehouse Orion Pax once worked at. They were only there to protect the merchandise from unintended explosion, not from thieves of any kind.

„This is export quality" Ratbat informed him. „About one-third of our production goes to other universes, but it's best when served fresh from refinement. Those cubes in the corner have a crystal of unprocessed energon in them. These extremely irridescent ones are double-distillated, to meet the needs of mechs of extreme performance. Those grayish cubes have extra cybertronium in them, for those who work away from Cybertron. Fortified boxes in the hind corner, I didn't exactly get what they are needed for, but they won't explode under any circumstances. And this here" the bat-con landed next to a pile of energon cubes that were shining as if horizontal stripes were carved in them „is my newest speciality. Each layer is of a different type, and I pay special care for the energon not to be stirred."

The way he talked suggested that he'd offline of disappointment if the Prime would refuse to take at least a sip of his pride. And even if his systems were filled after the long recharge, Optimus's tanks felt dry. He couldn't turn down the unspoken offer.

The high-grade tasted like sunshine on freshly forged metal, like the power of devotion and will, with a decent touch of cybertronium. It was strong by all means, concentrated, full of flavor. It was unlike anything he drank in a long while.

„This might feel more familiar" Ratbat guided him to another pile of the pure pink cubes. „Even if I doubt that it had ever arrived at your universe unshaken. Shaking takes out the oily aroma and it cannot be replaced later."

Optimus hesitated, he wasn't sure if he should have accepted a second cube. But the smell only had made his engines whirr. The first cube had onlined his systems, the second made him believe that he was more alive than not. He was definitely alive, he decided.

„Doesn't it even remind you of something?" Ratbat asked as he took in the guest's obviously pleased expression.

„It resembles the cube I once had at an old oil house, long before the war."

„Maccadam's" Ratbat nodded. „He's our number one customer. Whatever he has in his store, any time, in any continuities, his best staff comes from here. He's a brother of the mech from whom Megatron inherited these mines."

It was odd to imagine that once he had possibly drank energon that was mined by his arch-nemesis.

„Where is he?" Optimus asked.

„Our leader? In Uraya, I believe. There's been something with the planetary engines again and he's making sure that there's nothing wrong with the power lines. He's obsessed with Cybertron's energy supply, but in a good way."

„Yes" Optimus Prime nodded. „In a good way."

After an abundant breakfast of two high-grades, the guest Prime transformed and rolled back to the energon mine. It didn't take long before he joined the miners. He wasn't much of a digging mech, ever, but he was a dock worker once and carrying raw energon from the active veins to the refiner chambers and then on to the storage area triggered nostalgic memories in him. Somewhere beneath the battle-hardened shields of Optimus Prime, he was thrilled to find Orion Pax still alive and functioning. Wasn't it mesmerizing? Wasn't some physical work much better than preparing for the next fight over resources, and the next, and the next, endlessly? Of course on a battlefield he could have never said „Who cares?" but he didn't want to care, despite he had to. They have used up their resources, and they were ready to kill each other for the little that remained. When Autobots finally took Cybertron back, he witnessed the planet slowly regaining its strength, but at the same time, the war had turned bloodier than ever before. Right after waking on Earth, there had been few cases when he had trusted that other Megatron, even if for a breem at best. They were able to cooperate when they had to. But the more the Cybertron he knew had been repowered, the more savage the fighting became. Finally they have decimated each other's armies, killing many mechs, including each other. Had there perhaps been another way, one that he the Matrix-bearer failed to find? He swept the thought aside, for now. He couldn't drive through a tunnel full of mechs with pointless daydreaming on his processor. Besides, he couldn't have made a lasting peace back there, because that Megatron had definitely nothing in common with this one, perhaps except for the body structure and the shape of their insignia on their chests.

Soundwave came to check on him, and he insisted on making at least a few scans of his energon distribution before allowing him to continue the hard work.

„Healing: accelerated" the Decepticon stated in his melodic voice. „Readouts: better than expected. Good effects of stiff work in Primus's embrace are unquestionable."

He could feel a few „I could have told you that without any instruments" looks around them, and he would've bet that Soundwave didn't miss these reactions either.

Nor could he miss the white Recordicon rushing down the corridor from Uraya's direction. „Repairing planetary engines was a chore as always, but at least we're done with it for the next few vorns" Ravage informed them. „Some silly Autobots got bored with its noise and attempted sabotage. I've told Prowl to take the culprits to the Sonic Canyons, once he'd found them."

Then nothing extraordinary had happened for a while. Optimus indulged in his self-chosen task, just like many other mechs around him. He wondered what the local Autobots were like. He heard stories, most of which he didn't really like, but he couldn't imagine a snobbish Bumblebee or a stroppy Bluestreak. And he didn't feel like asking about his this-universe self.

He took a slight turn, rolled up the ascent to the refinery, unloaded his cargo, then came down the ramp and let the momentum roll him as far as the next vein. He avoided the pile of stone and stanchioning equipment at the entrance, and drove into the tunnel. He didn't even need his lights on: the glimmer of pink and blue energon was enough for him. He'd already been here this shift, so he didn't pay much attention to the miners other than a swift greeting. He was wondering about his past and what might had silenced his inner Orion Pax self, when suddenly his brakes brought him to a creaking stop. Further in this vein, already buried in powderised raw energon like the rest of the miners, he'd spotted the silvery mech who was the answer to his unspoken question.

Megatron was busy tearing down an unusually hard wall of energon-rich rock, the pick in his hands fragmented the stone to shards. He didn't hesitate, he didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. He pressed a sensor against the wall, and continued his work. The expression on his face was familiar: a maniac, being after something. His rythmic strikes talked about confidence and obsession. Optimus was glad that, for once, he didn't have to throw himself in his way.

One more hit of the pick and the vein suddenly glimmered in a beautiful green light. All workers turned there, where Megatron had carefully subspaced his pick and was now holding a tiny green crystal he removed from the hard material. Optimus had recognised the gemstone in an astrosecond.

„Heart of Cybertron" he muttered, transforming to bipedal form.

„Indeed" the miner replied. „It can be very rarely found, always in the hardest surroundings. It is the purest energon, extremely concentrated by heat and pressure. One must be very careful how to use it. It could easily overenergize any mech."

„Tell me about it!" the Prime smiled.

„What are your plans with it, Megatron?" a young-looking miner asked.

„Hearts don't show up at a venture, there is a reason Primus has trusted us with it. I will put it in the vault until we'd need it." He subspaced the tiny green crystal, then looked at the Prime. „I'm glad to see you found your place here." He had what he was after, so he roughly cleared the energon dust off his fusion cannon, and walked out of the vein. Optimus decided to follow him.

„May I ask how it went in Uraya?" he inquired warily.

„Same as always. Autobots making whatever trouble they can make, Decepticons going and stopping them, both parties going home, and see you next time. What's more annoying, is the regular infight in Kaon and Cy-Clone went there with only a small group to sort it out."

So not even here was everything perfect on the surface. That added to the stories he had recently heard.

„Do you think she could get into danger there?"

„It's the Badlands. Primon usually refers to it as Primus's heel. Of course I disapprove of her rolling out there just because I turned away for half an orn." _Why cannot she stay out of trouble?_

They arrived at a long-abandoned shaft. It looked more like a hall carved in the rock, only, the floor was missing. It looked like there were series of explosions long ago. The mess was cleared up, but the shaft wasn't used again.

„Wait for me here" Megatron requested, and took his energon pick out from his subspace. „This isn't an easy place to walk." He fixed the pick between the wall of the tunnel and two firm-looking stones, pulled out the cable from the handle, and lowered himself to where no sensor could see.

He was in the darkest region of the Central Shaft. There wasn't any energon in the walls, even the pools of the shiny electrum had been cleaned up after the explosions. What remained was the wreck of Megatron's youth. Memories, really. Each stone here spoke of a time before he became responsible for all Decepticons in this world. First was still showing up from time to time, but he missed the vorns when his Master was with him. When he had thought that Primon was his Master and didn't care about that little detail about being imprinted at the Sonic Canyon.

He had changed. He was no longer a sparkling with bright optics shining with curiosity. He himself had become a guide to a newer generation, a leader who was followed and looked up to. He belonged to Primus, and Primus alone. He had a good relationship with his former Master, may it be weakened by time and distance. His thought transmitter was still working, and First was sure to be around in case he was really needed. They have never lost each other, and they never let any other mech get between them. He met other members of the Original Thirteen, and he had respected them for what they each were. They were his Master's family, and some of them like Prima or Solus Prime had treated him as if he was one of them. An honorary member, Liege Maximo had teased him. _Oh, Liege_. The dark green mech was avidly trying to convince Megatron to join him in his personal fight against the rest of the multiverse, ever since First made him apologize for some old issues with the Matrix. Liege Maximo had always had Primon down for the weak old scolar, and when the apprentice (_Fraggit! Slave!_) of said weak old scolar had returned the Fallen defeated and unconscious to their creator, the Thirteen's warrior brethren was forced to apoligize in front of the victorious (ex-)slave. The meeting ended with Liege Maximo offering ultimate power to the silvery miner. Primon was proud of what Megatron replied: instead of sending him straight to the Pit on reflex, he simply pointed out that Primus's destructive creation didn't even have and could have never provided him a home. There had to be many other mechs in the multiverse who would eagerly participate in the conqueror's plans. Liege didn't give up, he gave him a few tries now and then, and finally Megatron promised to help him out if the situation was dire. That was the offer that earned him an honorary membership of the ever-troublesome family.

Now, holding a Heart of Cybertron crystal on his palm, Megatron was wondering when would he ever make true of his word. The Thirteen had been created against Unicron, and if Megatronus Prime hadn't stabbed them in the back, they would have succeeded. Now the opportunity was long gone. Sometimes Megatron received word of Unicron or Primus having defeated the other in a universe, but it turned out that they had both survived and it was nothing more than one battle in a long war. Perhaps they didn't even want to destroy each other anymore. Primus certainly didn't want Unicron dead, since he tried to avoid destruction whenever he could. _Master, you made a rather ironic mistake when you created us._ First often laughed at this opinion, but he would never say whether he agreed or not.

Optimus was staring at the ceiling of the empty hall when Megatron surfaced from the shaft. He seemed to be thinking about something Matrix-related. Possibly he was wondering whether he was fitting to be a Leader, and if not, then why was he a leader still. That's something a leader would only do when he was completely alone and unseen.

„Come, I think it's time for a rest after your first shift" the silvery mech invited him. „I heard you like reading. If that's so..." He made a gesture in the direction of a dimly lit tunnel. Optimus transformed. Now that his lights were closer to the ground, he felt a little more safer in the otherwise dark area. Megatron was obviously not navigating on sight. More like, on memories.

„That hall must have been beautiful once" Optimus started when the silence became uncomfortable.

„Beautiful? Perhaps not" Megatron replied. „But I liked it the way it was. It was the Central Shaft of First's mine system. Always full of busy mechs. There was a ramp that lead straight to Polyhex, and there was a storage of quality mid-grade in a chamber for the incoming mechs."

The tone hinted nostalgy and sadness. Or grief. It could very well be grief, and Prime wondered if he should have asked what happened to the place. As if he was reading his thoughts, the silvery mech continued.

„It was where Autobots invaded the mines after First was killed. There's been..."

„Shooting?"

„A massacre. A lot of Empties died, and one of the mine captains was shot dead right before our optics. Two other miners had been found dead under the debris, and many were buried alive. It was a work of two traitors, I have defeated one of them, the other escaped through a dimension gate where I couldn't follow him" Megatron explained. „I bet you could tell me similar stories with Decepticons" he added.

„Do you want to hear any?"

„Don't bother, I already have."

They arrived to a much brighter area. It was just as abandoned as the former Central shaft, but there was energon in the walls, and Megatron noted that the zone would be mineable soon again. They went on, through a dweller walk and a surprisingly straight and perfectly horizontal tunnel, then up to the Hastak ramp.

The area spoke of invaluable knowledge. Data storing devices, tape scrolls and books filled the shelves.

„Primon's collection. It'd only been a fragment of this when I first came here, he had been expanding it ever since he joined the multiverse. Everything is sorted by universe, so please put them back to their correct places after reading."

Had Optimus had his mouthplate back, it could have dropped with his jaw. There was a complete Marvel collection on one shelf. Five golden disks in gift box: according to the signature on the insert, the set was from a mech named Retcon, who had given them on an anniversary of Megatron's creation. On the shelf labeled as „Local" he could find a good collection of Straxus's poetry. Straxus's poetry? He made a note to himself to start here. But what else was there? Two volumes of Animated Almanac. Art of IDW. Exodus and Exiles. Transformation.

Orion Pax was in his personal heaven.

* * *

If there would have been morning in the underground library, it would have found Optimus still guzzling information from worlds he never got to know. Ravage asked him whether he intended to spend the rest of the orn here, and when he answered that he didn't, the white Recordicon led him back to the inhabited part of the huge mine system. More exactly, he led him to Megatron's private vein.

The silvery mech was cleaning his fusion cannon, paying more care to the black tube than to his own mirror shine. Optimus turned away from him, and started examining a nearby wall. He wasn't surprised to find fistprints and holes here and there. There were almost no knickknacks nor personal items, but words scrawled upon the wall, shards of old graffitis, it seemed. He could guess at some of the quotes. „Forever's shorter than you think" sounded familiar, for example.

A holopicture activated as he went closer to it. There were three mechs in the picture, he easily recognised two of them.

"That was taken on the fourhundredth anniversary of the Autobot-Decepticon treaty" Megatron looked up. "Senator of Tarn, king of Vos, leader of the Decepticons, we had a lot to celebrate that orn. Decimus gave Starscream a lot of help and inspiration, and when Screamer was elected as king, he was the first to congratulate."

Optimus gave a rather dubious look, but said nothing. Megatron continued. "It's a pity there's not one acceptable shot of the coronation. It was good comedy. Right in the middle of the Royal Fanfares, there came an impostor who claimed to be the legitimate ruler. Before I could have done anything, Decimus took my energon pick and sorted out that knockoff." Megatron's facial expression could only be understood as ultimate embarrassment. "We were so overenergized at that time."

Megatron decided his fusion cannon was tidy enough, and asked his guest whether he felt like going on a little sightseeing on the surface. Optimus was more than eager to go – he wasn't used to spending time this deep. He wasn't yet getting fidgety or strained, but he was sure that travelling would do him good. He transformed and shifted to gear.

„What's that?" Megatron stared. He was standing behind the ready-to-go semitruck, and now he leaned forward to see his left hind mudflap. „She looks gorgeous!"

Optimus transformed back to his bipedal mode in confusion. He wondered if the Decepticon leader was just pulling his leg, but no, there really was something on his splash-guard. A painting, a silouette of a femmebot he very well knew, whom he matched. It was white, exactly the shade of Elita-One's spark colour.

„Cy-Clone's doing, right?"

Optimus nodded. The orn before, the femme made sure to be there when he was already unconscious in recharge. She'd seen that picture of Elita. It computed very well. But how did she know the spark colour?

Megatron grinned proudly, then muttered an old cliché about mechs only realising too late what a femme would do to them. Optimus agreed and transformed again, silently wondering how he could keep the paintwork on the mudflap clean for the rest of his functioning.

They took a wide, comfortably flat tunnel to the mine's well-hidden exit. The view was amazing. Two stars were high in the sky while the third was setting. Bright and colorful rays framed the solar power stations of Tagan. There was not even a trace of battle around it. Whoever the more aggressive faction were here, they knew better than destroy the industrial area of their planet. Optimus found himself wondering again. Of couse, it would be the easy way out to say that the Tagan Heights were undamaged here because the local Decepticons were wiser than those he knew, but it would only be a fragment of the truth. It might take only one to start a war, but it definitely takes at least two to keep it up for over nine million years. Even if they had spent half of it offline, there was a better half when they could have done something towards a lasting peace. Not trusting the enemy sounded like a cheap excuse, may it be as true as the Matrix itself.

Megatron took off into the air , and the rays of the setting sun made him shine more golden than silver. It suited him, made him resemble an old Cybertronian councilor instead of a dreaded Decepticon warmonger.

„Aren't you coming, Optimus?"

He was. He was rolling on his homeland's roads, in a light that powered Cybertron. The warm breeze felt like a friendly hand, showing him the way. The ground below his wheels (and only there, thank Primus!) provided him adhesion, gave him confidence. He sped up, racing the wind and his Decepticon host. He was free, free at last.

The citizens of Tagan noticed them, but didn't pay much attention. Some of them were wearing purple Autobot symbols on their frames, some of them had a red Decepticon insignia. But none of them seemed to be holding any weapon. Megatron landed beside him, and he transformed from his Earth mode to his native Cybertronian bipedal form. They had mingled with the crowd of civilians.

The Decepticon leader was walking proudly. He didn't let his true emotions surface, but he'd never liked sunsets. They always reminded him of the passing time, something he didn't have to bother with when he wasn't on the surface. Cy-Clone and her team had been away for too long. Peace or not, this was upsetting. He would've preferred if she hadn't gone to the Badlands almost alone_. But didn't she feel the same when I went to get those spare parts from the evil Prime? _He turned his face from the setting star. _I will have to ask Soundwave and the Recordicons to ask around if she won't be home by the time we get back. _

Optimus took in the sight of the peaceful city. These mechs gave him a curious look, possibly because of his red Autobot sigil. They couldn't understand why he was staring around that much like a tourist. He was about to say that he could walk across the crowded main square without as much as a gun, but then, he looked at Megatron by his side, remembered his alternative mode, and he'd let the thought out as a good, burbling laugh.

Megatron turned around with a questioning look. He was about to ask his guest what was that funny, but as he looked back, he could see a tiny golden Recordicon flying from the same direction they came. He raised his arm, offering a wrist for Ratbat to perch on.

„What is it?" Suddenly all citizens silenced around them. The formerly inert mechs did not miss the distress in the Decepticon leader's tone.

„Laserbeak just gave his report from the Badlands" Ratbat replied. „Our team was attacked by the evil Prime on their way home."

Megatron's spark froze at Ratbat's words. He knew what the Recordicon had to say next.

„There are no survivors."


	3. Shadows

**Shadows**

_She was my better half. She was like my own beating spark, vital and pink like energon. She was the spirit that carried us on whenever the situation was dire._

„I know."

They were in a shadowy vein, Megatron resting his head on Primon's shoulder. His dark helm felt so heavy, like the burden he now had to carry alone. _I_ _cannot continue without her. _

„Remember all the good times you spent together" First suggested.

_All I can feel is the emptiness she left behind. _

Primon couldn't offer him more than the memories he was carrying. Honestly, he didn't like the femme when they first met, maybe because of his prejudice for the half-gobot. But he had well understood what she meant to the silvery leader, and he was happy to see Megatron shine with her at his side.

Soundwave dealt with the condolences coming from all over Cybertron. Decimus had written a sparkbreaking, sorrowful obituary. His bittersweet words had remembered the vivacious, brave femme who would lead them through the most desperate times.

Optimus had done his part of the grieving, supporting the broken mech after Primon had disappeared into the multiverse again. He was a good listener, and he truly grieved the femme he hardly got to know, but his processors were busy with another uncomfortable thought. Was he perhaps missed from his world as much as Cy-Clone would be missing from here? If so, wouldn't it be his duty to seek a way back as soon as possible? His wounds were mostly healed, he felt better than he usually did when he was alive. But how could have he left the grieving Megatron alone?

„She was a part of my life ever since my Master was killed" he mused. „What?" he stared. „You didn't know that we've been slaves once?"

„I heard about other Decepticons having been enslaved, but I didn't know that you were involved too."

„I've been a Decepticon just like the others" Megatron stated, then looked away. The Prime seemed to be changing the subject. _Maybe you are right. Let's talk about what's long over _. „What's so special about it?"

„I believe in freedom and I'm sorry to hear about your past."

„Don't" the Decepticon said simply, still looking away. „My master's the most amazing mech who had ever been created by Primus."

Optimus harumphed. „I have my opinion about a being who would take another as his property. Granted, I don't have the right to judge a mech whom I've never known..." he added.

„Optimus, you have no idea of how wrong you are" Megatron said. Was that a shadow of a smile on his bitter face? „Life isn't as simple as good and bad and possibly a few shades of gray in between" Megatron explained. „Light can create darkness just like darkness can create light. And don't ever accuse Primus of giving a bad spark to anyone. Imperfect, yes, but our imperfectness is what keeps us all together. It's what ties us to each other. It's our own mistake that leads to us losing whatever we held at high esteem_." Hunter of War, I am more sorry than ever. _

There was silence in the underground room, and it felt unbearably empty, for a confined mine vein. Megatron was staring at a bright spot in the corner, but he didn't seem to register anything at all.

Optimus Prime watched his woebegone expression. He had only seen it once: when his Autobots had finally broken through the Decepticon forces on Cybertron's surface and driven them as far as Charr. Then he had seen Megatron this hopeless and defeated. And that was when the war had turned from a series of tactical movements to all-out massacre. He had lost many Autobot sparks to the renewed war.

He didn't like the truth in Megatron's words about mistakes and losses, and he had only hoped he would be followed by a Prime wiser than him. Perhaps one who wouldn't repeat his monumental error.

_You seem to be more lost than I am._ Megatron turned to him in rueful silence.

„Is there anything we could do?" the Prime asked.

_You mean anything we could do for her?_ „We could not even retrieve her body."

„Then let's roll." Something had to be done.

* * *

The otherwise dimly lit ceiling felt like a horrible reminder of Megatron's carelessness. The evil Prime was obsessed with expanding his collection without remorse. He bore a grudge against Primus's creations, and rejoiced in their deaths. He hated everyone who was fuelled with energon. Sometimes not even Aira could go close to him without being targeted as a potential addition to the berthroom decor.

But this was definitely not the case now.

„Were you out of your rusting processor, or is it only your joorly suicidal kink?!" she went into her tantrum. „How long will it take for you to realize that you are unable to die? Bad news, Prime, you are not! You have killed the Decepticon first lady, and what for? Are you at least satisfied with yourself? I very much hope so, but it won't last long, I guarantee that!"

_It looks like we arrived in the middle of a domestic little quarrel. _Megatron tried to move in the ceiling, but mass-shifting only worked in his pistol mode, which wasn't a very mobile form by its nature.

In the other room, Aira continued: „I foolishly believed that someone with your experience would be a little wiser and not get into the worst slag just because an opportunity revealed itself! Megatron will chop you up! And guess what I will do, I will step out of his way because he will scrappin' be right!"

_How would I chop him up alive? I have already killed him once. That's the problem. _

A loud crash could be heard before the femme continued her speech. „And don't you turn back to polishing your little trophy when I'm talking to you! Do you even recognise what you got yourself into, or does your lack of Unicron-slag dumb you, Prime?"

No-one could see Megatron's face expression turn darker in the shadowy ceiling. It sounded like his nemesis was hungry again. He should have known. But then, what could have he done? The evil Prime was fueled by dark energon ever since the accident, feeding on Unicron's essence just like normal Cybertronians used energon. He was almost sane when his tanks were full, but when he was running short of fuel, he turned brutal and even more merciless than otherwise. Megatron, driven by shame and remorse, had done his best searching for the dark energon his namesake had once hidden on the surface. The Fallen's goal would have been murdering Primus with the essence of his brother, but he had never returned after he was beaten by the silvery Decepticon warrior. The storages were enough for the one, unfortunate mech, but they were limited, and they have mostly been used up by now. Megatron had done whatever was in his power, he had even asked the Vosian Seekers for help, but they could not create dark energon, nor could they replace it with any substitute. They have tried giving him normal energon once, the evil Prime had been bearing even worse a grudge since then. Megatron feared that he would see his nemesis starve raving mad, but still unable to die. His sorry didn't help the hapless enemy.

He mused over Aira's words silently. Grief made him bitter, but he would have never caused even more damage to Hunter of War. Perhaps he should have disabled some of the Prime's functions, so that he wouldn't cause even more sorrow, but he felt that he didn't have the right. The evil Prime was his fault. He had to suffer the consequences.

But, if Aira was expecting Megatron to come and beat the purple Prime up for Cy-Clone's death, she didn't get what she bargained for. Instead, she saw a huge semitruck coming their way, similar to her partner except for the coloring. He was coming in as if he would have never intended to stop, he crashed through the wall, an unstoppable block of furious metal and righteous indignation. As he transformed, he moved away from the shocked Aira, so that the femme would not get between him and his local alterego.

The purple Prime did not let his surprise show. He only had his trophy-preparing tools at hand, but he grabbed them immediately and attacked the other Prime with a driller set and polishing equipment.

Prime was not new to using odd choices of weapon in combat. He took a reel of hanger cables, and quickly tied a lasso of it.

In the other room, Megatron buried his face in his right hand's palm. _Primes_. Judging by the sounds of whirling engines and metal clashing against metal, they have engaged in servo-to-servo combat. Aira made the wise decision, she was good on her word: she transformed into her helicopter mode and left the scene before she would have been squeezed to a wall as an unintended piece of decoration.

The two Primes were throwing colorful insults and random tools at each other. Something sounded like a breaking tailpipe, followed by the unmistakeable tinkling of shattering glass, and then a series of punctures. _How many wheels does one Prime have?_ Cursing renewed. Even their voices were very similar, one only slightly angrier than the other. There was a loud bang, as one of them tossed the other into the wall of the building. There was the raspy sound of a mech transforming, gaining speed and momentum, then scudding through the shattered glass and getting instant punctures in his wheels. _How many wheels do two Primes have? _

The standing mech must have thrown himself on the other one in an attempt to keep him down on the floor. The mech had transformed anyway, and swiftly kicked his alterego through a closed door. There must have been something fragile stored on the other side of said door. _At least there are only two of them here. I won't take responsibility for a third truck! Primus, do you hear me?_

If he did, he didn't show much attention. Not that Megatron had expected him to do so.

The two Primes continued their fight in the other room, so Megatron decided to lower himself from the ceiling and release the local scraplets he'd brought with himself in a box. These would bring down dead metal, and recycle the bodies according to Primus's design. They were said to be so common in other universes' battlefields, their function was taken for granted without realising they were there. In this world, they could mostly be found at the large metal graveyard of the Omega Terminus. _From now on, they would also be found where your collection used to be, purple Prime_.

One of the truck-bots used the other as a hammer to demolish the wall between them, so Megatron reached for the cable that was normally hidden in his multifunctional energon pick's handle, and he quickly pulled himself out of the raging Primes' way. He was here to grieve, not to interfere in something he didn't consider to be his business. He hoped that Optimus would take care of himself. _I might not be able to get replacements of your missing components again, if you shatter the donor_. He whispered „Good luck" as the red and the purple mechs passed below his refuge, and when they were gone, he lowered himself again and entered the room where the evil Prime was working before Optimus arrived.

Cy-Clone's body was in a corner, gracelessly thrown on top of corpses of her team members. She was gray and didn't look exotic anymore. Her fierce devotion was gone. Her life-loving spirit was gone. Her spark was gone. But her loving memory could never be taken. Megatron held the dead frame close to his own, living body, as if he could have given his own life to her. He would have gladly done so.

In the other room, Optimus was loudly commenting on the other Prime's morbid collecting quirk. Hearing this, Megatron remembered to place a few scraplets on the remnants of the other team members, but he couldn't bring himself to let Cy-Clone's grayened body go with them. Through the demolition the Primes were causing, he could hear distant hammering that had to come from the Forge. The blacksmith was home. _That's where I shall go. _Megatron was holding the gray frame of his lost Cy-Clone with desperation.

The purple Prime's shocked scream shook the place. Possibly it shook all Kaon, perhaps the whole Badlands. _He'd found the scraplets._

Optimus took in the sight with a rattle. Then, disregarding the purple Prime in tow, he took a half-decayed arm, full of scraplets, and marched into the other room. His expression told how much he disapproved of what the other Prime treasured.

„No!" the purple one cried. „Not the face collection! That was a gift from another univ..."

Optimus threw the arm in the middle of the room, then left the way he came. Megatron followed suit.

* * *

The Forge, like other places on Cybertron, was present in all universes, but its blacksmith preferred to use this one. Megatron would have bet she chose this place because it was close to where Megatronus Prime was defeated. He never brought it up, though. Robots of the Original Thirteen didn't take being killed lightly, even if it didn't end their functioning. It just... overcomplicated it. Megatron didn't even talk about this with First, and he obviously wouldn't ask anyone else.

The hammering paused as Megatron approached the door. It opened silently, and he was greeted by a black and silver femme. She was tall and dainty, and apart from the lack of her nose, she resembled her older brother much.

„What is it, Megs?" she asked. Then she recognised the gray frame Megatron was holding. She whispered Cy-Clone's name.

„I couldn't let her just fall apart like the rest of us" Megatron explained, his gaze meeting that of the blacksmith, begging. „Make something beautiful of her, Solus. Just... just not a weapon. She wouldn't like to be turned into a weapon."

The femme took the dead metal from Megatron's hands, and placed the half-Renegade's remains into a melting-pot.

„I will make a memento of peace out of her" Solus Prime promised. Her voice was soothing, like that of every creator. „Her metal is different from ours. You know, I already have some plans of a garden of winds and crystals. She will be a jewel of Cybertron."

Megatron just nodded, silently, weakly._ She always wanted to belong to Primus._ He watched as the once pink, now dark gray body was smelted down, to be later constructed into the Helix Gardens.

_So long, my beloved. _


	4. The last wound heals

**The last wound heals**

Kaon's surface was as noisy and arrogant-looking as Optimus remembered it from many million years ago. There was only one star's distant light blinking on the northern horizon, the shadows making the tall buildings seem even larger. The citizens had been moving around silently, and most of them, alone. He could easily pretend to be one of them.

There was a familiar white shape in the distance, a bright form he felt he knew ever since he was created, but he could not yet put a name to him. The mech turned to the sky as he watched a spaceship being prepared for launch.

The others didn't seem to notice either of them. Optimus had seen a large mech pushing Megatron out of his way, murmuring an irritated „Who do you think you are". The silvery mech grinned._ I always forget how it feels like not to be recognised_. Optimus grinned back at him as if he understood. _Remind me to give you the mouthplate back._

A heavy-duty rocket approached. He laid down landing rails as he flew over the landing platform and turned around to make his final approach. He must have been carrying the rails in his subspace, maybe he was carrying a whole spaceport with himself. Optimus Prime was wondering where he could have seen something similar, when his glance fell on the familiar-looking white mech who was still watching the Longshot's take-off. He seemed to be so young, so careless, so unexperienced.

The rocket was coming down to the runway just as carelessly, and he would have hit the white robot if Optimus hadn't pulled him aside in the last moment. Then the two of them had stood there, holding each other as if they had just found someone they had been looking for. Omega Supreme landed behind them, then transformed, picked up his landing rails, and walked away as if nothing had happened.

The two robots were just standing, taking in each other's sight. They were of the same frame type, same construction, no doubt of that. Optimus was red, blue, and gray, decorated with some damage that battlefield encounters had left behind. The other was pure white, there was not even a scratch on him yet. The shades of their optics were exactly the same.

The sparkling held on to Optimus as if he had just found his only support in this strange new world he was recently sparked into, and the Prime cuddled him much like he had seen parents on Earth holding their young offsprings. They were not only of the same structure, their bond was lying much deeper.

„Astrotrain has been waiting for us for three..." Megatron started. Optimus stared at him, having missed the moment the silvery miner landed beside them. Now, said miner was standing rivited to the ground.

_A sparkling? Here?_ He had very much reminded Megatron of how he once looked like, unpainted, untainted. „Who is he?"

„Ultra Magnus" the Prime replied.

* * *

Astrotrain flew over the Rust Sea, landed flat and continued his way to Dream Engine.

„Those beasts you can see there" Megatron pointed at the Metallic Bay „are Dinobots. They are very peaceful, only, do not start throwing pebbles at their nose" Megatron grinned, and the white mech grinned back at him.

„Why?" he asked. Until he was given the idea, the thought would have never crossed his processor.

„Mutual respect, mechling." Megatron was still grinning as he patted the young one's shoulder. „Mutual respect. It can do miracles."

Astrotrain entered the tunnel, and sent out a brief message that he was coming home, and he had a new Autobot on board. Soundwave's reply was just as brief and informal: he was politely curious of just how many more Autobots would come to the mines in the next few orns.

_The mine system was never a Decepticons-only area,_ Megatron reminded him. _First is an Autobot, albeit quite an ancient one._

Soundwave replied that he never had to keep track of Primon. _Then what's the problem, old mech?_

„Problem: nothing" Soundwave replied.

_Then what is it?_

„In order of appearance. Red Cliffjumper: still sceptic about our good intentions and blaming us for him being stuck here."

_This world seems to act as a landing platform for whoever gets lost in their own worlds._

Megatron thought of his blue and light gray Master, who spent many vorns here after he had been separated from the Matrix in an infight of the Original Thirteen, then he was trapped here, hiding underground when the surface was ruled by the defector Megatronus Prime. _Things have changed, _hethought gleefully. He looked at his fusion cannon, memento of his victory over the traitor.

„Optimus Prime: had injuries that could have killed any mech at least a dozen times" Soundwave continued.

„But I'm quite fine now!" the Prime replied. Soundwave didn't seem to have heard.

„Blue Cliffjumper: nigh impossible to get rid of" he stated. „Comes about every orn and asks whether he can see the other Cliffjumper. While red Cliff is convinced that the blue Cliff was an enemy for some unknown reasons."

Megatron skretched the base of his cannon. If not even Soundwave can get what kind of enemy the red Cliffjumper is afraid of, then he must be paranoid. _Maybe the blue Cliffjumper should be allowed to proove himself, and then the red Cliffjumper would be willing to go and stay with the Autobots instead. _

„What is this Ultra Magnus like?" another voice queried.

„The same color as you, Ravage" Megatron replied. „He was sparked about two orns ago." He looked at the mechling, not quite sure about his guess.

„Well and truly" the white one nodded.

„In Simfur" Megatron added, bemused.

* * *

Optimus returned to the library, but he was too deep in his thoughts to concentrate on what he was reading. Cyberoglyphs passed, got saved into his databanks, but his processors were still whirling about the other Prime when Megatron joined him.

„Your new mouthplate" the Decepticon said in a tired, slightly irritated tone. That was all he let show. Grieving was over. He had seen Cy-Clone's body smelted. Life went on, and Megatron had to go along with it. He had a Prime to take care of, a Matrix-bearer who had to be healed enough to be able to fulfill his duty. His Masters, both the one who raised him and the one he had really imprinted on, have needed him.

The Prime put the book aside, and reached for the protective gray metal. „Thank you."

Then, they just sat in silence, reading each other's hapless expressions. Finally, it was Megatron who broke the silence.

„You don't have to like what you see in the mirror. He is everything you are not."

Optimus attached the mouthplate to his frame, then removed and subspaced it along with his helmet.

„I looked into his optics and I've seen everything I fear to become. And... he scared me. His killing our kind, his disregard for the difference between Autobot and Decepticon. His desire for possession."

There, he said it. He let Megatron see him without his protecting armor. He was preparing himself for another look in the mirror.

The opposite of his arch-nemesis sat down in a chair facing his own, both hands resting comfortably on his energon pick. There was a thin layer of some powderised ore on his shoulders. He must have been working, Optimus realised. He was a miner, and doing what he was meant to do helped him settle the discomfort in his processor.

„You keep forgetting where you are: that you're in a world where every bot is the opposite of what you know." Now that he was paying attention, Optimus could hear the weariness in his tone. He wasn't bored or badgered, but he surely wasn't in the mood of plotting anything, either.

„But what if Primon's wrong?" Optimus asked.

_What?_

„He told me that he had found himself trapped here, in a world then completely alien to him. He is one with the Matrix, which is the assembled wisdom of all its former bearers. But carrying the Matrix doesn't mean that you're right all the time. I certainly was not. What if we have more in common with our mirror selves than what we are willing to admit?"

Megatron disagreed with the idea.

„Don't insult me by saying I have anything in common with the Megatron you were fighting. We have both been to the Pit, and came out victorious, but I honestly despise him for seeking new paths that only lead to destruction, and forgetting where his enemy took him from. I was also taken from the mines I worked in, but unlike him, I have not lost my aim and I returned, even if I had to kill for that! How could I value a warrior who would fight for anything but not for what he was originally standing up for? A miner who deviated from his course, who lost his way?"

Optimus hummed.

„I respected him" he admitted after some silence. „How's the sparkling?"

Megatron gave the Prime a rather curious look. _You respected him? Then why couldn't you negotiate instead of fighting?_

„He's with the Stunticons. He's a rolling mech, built for travelling long distances on the surface."

„Will he work with your home delivery team?"

_Good question._ Of course Megatron wanted the best for the Autobot sparkling whose fate was trusted to him, but he wasn't sure if the mines were a good place for Ultra Magnus.

„If he chooses so, he will. And I will ensure his training and education." Megatron pointed at the golden disc giftbox. „It's hard to tell what he will become."

_I wonder how much First knew when he bought me._ Megatron tried to remember back those early orns, before the imprinting. Perhaps the old mech was hesitating, unsure whether he would be willing to serve Primus. He had certainly proven himself, but was his leadership a part of the plan that early? First had asked Primus when he took Megatron to the Sonic Canyons, and, with the approval of their creator, Primon had named him after the Fallen and had appointed him to take the traitor's abandoned position as the balancer of chaos. And fifty-five vorns later, Megatron himself had agreed to this appointment at the other side of those same Canyons. He had ruined the Fallen's plan when he had returned to the mines, placing a hoard of miners between him and Primus's core. He had destroyed the dark energon storage, albeit at a horrible cost. And he had ended the enmity between Autobots and Decepticons before it could have escalated into war. Senator Decimus gave invaluable help in that.

_Decimus. _

Decimus was the first local Autobot who gained his trust and respect, and his courage could always be counted on, whenever the situation was dire. He helped Starscream rise to royal height, he was the appointed secretkeeper of Cy-Clone, and furthermore, he was a friend who could always be relied on. He had retired from his office five times in a row, and he could still be talked into his position for the sixth time. His longest retirement lasted for three cycles, most of which was spent organising the reconstruction of the Tri-Torus Loop highway. _Mechanisms from Tarn surely don't retire easily_, and Megatron was proud of that.

Optimus could see the miner's face expression, but couldn't put a name to it this time. Had they been in the universe he came from, Prime would have at least worried about the sparkling's future. But now, with this Megatron, he was only concerned.

„Do you think he will like rolling with the Stunticons?"

„It's all up to him" Megatron replied. „Maybe we shall ask him, they should be back soon. Come, this way."

Optimus was getting used to navigating in the three-dimensional maze that was the mine system. Of course he didn't know every tunnel, ramp and cavern by their designation, but he could find the library on his own.

This time, Megatron led him through an unusually bright, energon-rich, but inactive vein. At a whim, the silvery miner stopped, and hammered a fistful of energon off the wall with his bare hands.

„First told me that this area is dry and barren in your world" he said with sympathy.

„Until a few decades ago, our whole planet was."

„You spent too much time fighting."

Optimus had to agree.

They had to climb at the other end of the vein, then slide through a dweller walk, which lead them to the noisy, busy main hall. Optimus noticed a warning on this side of the dweller walk, it read „Handmined energon zone – no artificial equipment allowed". So this was why the silvery leader hadn't used his pick, he mused.

„There they come" Megatron looked up in the direction of the largest ramp, one that lead to the surface. In a far corner, the Red Cliffjumper murmured something about the Autobots being the untrustworthy faction here and about the baldness of admitting one of them to the energon mine.

A dark gray and a white semitruck came down the ramp, their wheels kicking up pink energon dust in their wake. They transformed at the lower end, different ways, but just as fast as the other.

„How was it?" the leader asked.

„We were surplus to requirements!" the sparkling stated proudly.

Megatron smiled. There won't be any problems. „Well, then, Magnus. It's time you refuel, young 'Bot." He handled over the shards of the delicate energon. „Wherever your road would take you, remember that you can always find home and fuel with us, Ultra Magnus."

Optimus put his helmet back mouthplate was back, but neither of these could hide the shine of his blue optics. He was apparently moved at how Megatron treated the youngling.

„I still recall First giving me handmined energon after my first shift" the miner mentioned later. „And I was almost nine orns old at the time."

„He must have been a great mech" the Prime admitted, correcting his earlier presumption. „I wish I knew him."

„You know him more than I do."

Meanwhile, the white sparkling had consumed his fuel. „I'm done! Finished!" he announced. Megatron grinned at him in amusement.

_Adorable_. „He is two and a half orns old, and he's speaking fluent Simfurian."

Not far from them, the red Cliffjumper had almost choked on his energon.

„The Magnus... is a sparkling here? I'm willing to believe anything, from now on!"

* * *

The next orn was spent with hard work and little rest. The sparkling had been rolling with the gentle Stunticons and the recovering Prime. The two Cliffjumpers met at a neutral area, and had been unseparable ever since.

Megatron trusted Soundwave with contacting him if he was needed, and went mining to the vast wasteland that had once been the scene of a spaceship catastrophy. The bodies had long been reduced to medical quality alloys, and it was time to tear down the lifeless blocks of metal and smelt it down again, creating new frames that would be given a spark of life sometime. The death of those many would not be in vain, then, not anymore: they would be the source of existance for a younger generation.

_Primus, how can you be this perfect?_

Megatron swung his pick, the soft pink blur dimly lit the dark tunnel. He was so alone, now, with only Primus around to talk to. He had always appreciated these moments. There was nothing between him and his true Master, the God of Light. He had inherited his adoration for Primus from First, and even when he couldn't go to the Sonic Canyons and catch up with Primus's and his creations' dealings, he always spent some time with him in private. The metal was hard and strong, there was no need for stanchioning, so he could truly be alone with his real Master, undisturbed.

The energon pick gleamed as he pushed forward in the mosaic of alloys. The grease of his joints slightly steamed at the force he put in each strike, the bright red optics had been shining with the intensity of his work. He barely stopped for looking around, pushing the electrosonic sensor to the wall, determining the direction in which he wanted to move. He carefully avoided the cavern of ancient creatures that colonized what had once been the bridge of the crashed ship. _What was her name? Ark? _He grabbed the energon pick again, and continued digging.

He thought about those brave Cybertronians who, despite all warnings, had decided to explore what was beyond their reach. Their sparks had returned to Primus when the ship crashed into the Manganese Mountains because of a navigational error.

_I'm brave when I am with you, Primus, but I would be a coward if I left you, ever. You are my life, the source and the reason of it. Is Cy-Clone there with you? I trust you take care of her. I loved her. Love her for me, Primus. _

The lonely miner's pick clattered against the metal, and the walls of the narrow corridor magnified the sounds with a comfortingly familiar echo.

* * *

Before dropping into recharge, Optimus had ran a quick scan on himself. His primary energon abridger was brand new, not yet functioning at the optimal level, so he was still using his secondary abridger. Apart from this minor discomfort, he felt as good as new. He wondered how long his vacation would last.

Megatron was recharging on the berth when he entered the tiny room. He had seen the Decepticon leader stumble in, perhaps to check on his guest before dropping into recharge in his own, private vein, but he was so exhausted that he immediately collapsed onto the then-empty berth on reflex as soon as he'd seen it. Optimus didn't want to disturb him, but at the lightest touch, Megatron curled up into his tiny pistol mode, otherwise unbothered in his recharge.

Optimus sat down on the berth, adjusting its dimensions. He set it for two, possibly three mechs of their normal size, then he simply dropped back, careful to give Megatron enough space if he would transform back while they were both recharging. He wondered if this was overkill, sleeping on the same berth as his enemy. Not enemy, he decided. He slowly powered his systems down, barely noticing the small gun now relaxing into his palm. He wrapped his fingers around the grip.

* * *

When he came out of recharge, Megatron was still asleep, but lying on his back in his full size robot mode. What felt weirder, Primon was also there, right between the two of mechs, resting his head on Optimus's newly repaired chest, but his right arm under Megatron's helmet. He seemed to be just as sleepy, but very comfortable between the two of them.

„Good morning, Primon" he whispered.

Those dark-framed blue optics focused on his face, as if the newcomer himself hadn't known what he was doing here.

„Greetings, Optimus Prime" the blue and light gray mech muttered. „It's good to see you functional. How do you feel?"

„Better than ever, thank you."

„You finally allowed your wounds to heal instead of questing new ones. It won't be long before you can go back to your world. You are very much missed there. As the Matrix, I'm closest to Rodimus Prime, and he would be eager to share his burden with you again."

Optimus Prime looked up to the ceiling. He could feel this mech being the same as the artefact he was carrying for nine million Earth years, and maybe it was time to word his doubts.

„I am unsuitable for leadership" he stated quietly. „Inadequate and unworthy. I have led half of Cybertron's population into a devastating war against the other half."

First moved so that he was facing Optimus, but Megatron's helmet was still resting on his right arm.

„That doesn't mean that you were unsuitable, Prime." Blue optics, wise and deep as the Matrix itself, looked him in the face. „Alpha Trion made a desperate move when you received the Matrix, Optimus. You were badly damaged, unfit for duty. Do you blame yourself for decisions you made? For fighting a Decepticon who had killed you?"

The answer would have been yes, but the question seemed thetorical. There was no arguing with the Matrix, he knew that from nine million years' experience. But there was something he still could do, still had to ask.

„Primon, you are one with the source of all Primes' wisdom. I know that I will loose my memories of this visit when I go back to where I belong, but I solemnly ask you to guard one memory for me. I have seen Autobots and Decepticons walking peacefully in a city I have only known as ruins on a battlefield. Please, let me remember that it wasn't just a daring dream. I will do my best to make it real again. Can you do that for me?"

Primon gladly agreed to that favour. If nothing else, it was proof that Optimus was suitable to become a leader again.

„That memory will be in the Matrix the next time you open it" he promised. „It will be there for you and for all mechs whom its light of wisdom falls upon."

_Rather cryptic yes._

Megatron gradually onlined his systems, relaxing into the receiving signal of his thought transmitter. Not that Primon would have recharged in his proximity before, except for that one case when Astrotrain had brought him back wounded._ Is something troubling you, First?_

Primon had moved his arm just enough to pat Megatron on the shoulder.

„I'm worried about my brother." _Who?_ „Liege Maximo. He always tried to play the lone outsider who doesn't share his problems with the rest of us, but Retcon has just found the broken shards of the Hub. Splattered all over the multiverse."

Now Megatron understood his Master's uneasy mood. The Hub was his dark brother's corporeal body, thousands of planets bound to each other, creating a fine network that should have held against the Unmaker himself.

_I promised to help him out._ „If he needed us, he would have let us know, wouldn't he?"

Primon turned back to him.

„I hope so."

_Retcon finding the Hub cannot be a good sign. Since when does he care about the Liege? _

First didn't answer him, but he pulled himself closer to the two Leaders. To Optimus, his closeness was the most evident sensation ever since he was created. To Megatron, this tiny movement spoke clearer than a thousand words: his Master was afraid of something, and he was seeking reassurance from the mechs he had trusted.

_The Hub was only the physical extension of his indestructible spark, he said it himself. He might be too proud to call for assistance, but he's even prouder to let himself be defeated. _

First nodded in gratitude. He may have been just as worried as before, but Megatron had reminded him of how self-assured (and indeed powerful) his brother usually was. And he could take care of himself, just like the rest of the Thirteen. Different rules of physics had applied to them, rules they bent or broke whenever they had to. Hadn't he survived being torn apart from the Matrix?

„I will be back later" he promised, and vanished from the tiny room.

For a klik or two, there was nothing but silence.

„Does he usually do that?" Optimus finally asked. He was used to the Matrix being constantly with him, and not disappearing anywhere.

„He comes and goes, and you can never know when he will show up again_." He's been around much more than usual, Prime. He's been staying here for you._

Optimus finally got off the berth, and repositioned his facemask. New day ahead. „Hi, Ravage. Ratbat, good morning."

Behind the white shadow and the flying drop of gold, Soundwave entered the room, as if he was waiting for the guest to get up. The dull white mech knew that Megatron wouldn't exactly be fond of the news he was bringing.

„The Senate wants you to know that the meeting about the highway reconstruction is due in forty-eight breems in the Crystal City Council Hall."

„Slag" Megatron replied. He, too, got off the berth and greeted the always-happy recordicons. He stretched out his arm, and Ratbat attached himself to his wrist, shining as if he was a jewel.

„The sooner the better" the golden one reasoned. „Before Senator Prowl gets another idea of overcomplicating the schemes. And before those Simanzi activists would organise another demonstration, in favor of one plan or the other. Or Rook getting wind of the meeting and then there's no slag in the universe that could keep the broadcasters away."

Megatron had to agree: he didn't want the listed possibilities to happen, especially not Rook showing up. He blinked at the Prime, wondering what the pesky correspondent could possibly do to his guest.

To his surprise, and despite his sparkspoken warnings, Optimus Prime was eager to come and see how matters would be settled in this world. He guessed that the mech was either bored with the peaceful work down here, or still had some malfunction, but he agreed to the request.

* * *

Crystal City had grown from a memento of good relationship between two polities into a citadel of diplomacy, the center of the neutral zone, quasi-capital of the region.

„The matter of highway construcion mostly evolves around the influence each polity and city-state want to claim, and around trade routes for heavy industry" Megatron explained. „It all started with the reconstruction of the Tri-Torus Loop: they had to build a collateral to let throught most of the traffic, and it involved a segment that's now used as a shortcut from Uraya to Tarn. Now every other state wants to have their own fresh passways to all their trading partners, and don't want their rivals to have a similar advantage."

„Politics." Prime's tone said it all.

„That exactly. You cannot allow more than two Autobots negotiate about their interests without supervision. Believe me, I tried. I walked out of the room, and in less than a breem, they were spark-down into an arguement. By the time I got back there, Decimus sorted the rest of them out, though"Megatron rumbled. „Not that his method wasn't effective, on the short run. He sent the three most troublesome senators to the repair bays with bare fists, so the others could be heard out and their suggestions had been taken into consideration." Megatron rested comfortably on the top of Optimus's cabin in gun mode, enjoying the view through what would transform into his fusion cannon, glad and grateful that he didn't have to fly as usual.

„Are all your politicians Autobots?" Prime queried.

„Most polities elect Autobots to represent them" was the reply. „There are some truly Autobot values that make them a good politician. They would always stand up for what they believe to be their good, and they won't change their opinion about it. They would never back away just because their superior or a chief officier told them to do so. They are free-sparked and adamant."

Optimus Prime was silent again. Wasn't this exactly what he wanted to happen? All partners negotiating as equals, coming to an agreement on their own free will, so that none of them would be suppressed?

Megatron tried to relax into the peace of the present before the meeting. There were some mechs whom he wasn't looking forward to meet. The Autobot leader was only one of them. And there was also the representative of the Badlands: Clench, the most affluent tycoon of Kaon. As much as he tried to convince himself of the opposite, he was scared of the weasely politician, and the purple Decepticon insignia he was wearing just felt so wrong by all means. On the other servo, wasn't Ultra Magnus wearing a red version of the Autobot symbol?

There was one more thought Megatron couldn't get out of his processor. Would he meet Steeljaw again? The bulky dark Recordicon usually came, if for nothing more then to gloat at the aging Senator Decimus. The Decepticon leader couldn't help a bitter grin as he remembered who Steeljaw used to be before he was hit by the Robo-Smasher. _Ravage still tries to make him remember who he was when they were friends_. The wounded dark Recordicon, once Decimus's partner and bodyguard, was usually too weak or lazy to even react to the white shadow's playful teasing.

They reached the hilltop, quite on time. Tarn was shining on their left, Vos scraping the cloudless sky on their right, the bright green city of crystals towered right in front of them. They could see Xantium and her hen-pecked partner Sky Lynx flying in the bright sky. _The ship-chick has finally found her mate_. Megatron felt a painful emptiness in his spark at the sight of the loveships.

Optimus picked up a familiar energy signature from Iacon's direction. The strong-built, mostly blue and purple firetruck soon showed up in his rearview mirrors, and he gently pulled to the side to allow the faster vehicle pass him.

The truck sped up, but he stayed next to them, and Optimus could see the cerulean blue flames on his paint job, surrounding the purple Autobot insignia.

The other must have been scrutinizing him just as eagerly. „So it was you who diminished our Hunter's collection. You came and you immediately felt authorized to destroy what had been his sole pride and obsession" he said in an icy, aristocratic tone. Optimus almost shivered at his statement.

„His passion had cost the lives of many Autobots, Cold Rodimus" Megatron inserted. „As much as I understand your concern for the evil Prime, wasn't it you who all but ordered me to do something about him when you've seen what happened to Blurr?"

The truck only seemed to notice Megatron on the top of the cabin.

„Ah, the hypocrite who had caused all this misery. Tell me, Decepticon leader: who should be concerned of the Prime, if not his leader?"

„Hunter of War is not an Autobot anymore" Megatron pointed out.

„He used to be" Cold Rodimus stated. „He should have remained one."

Optimus could feel the tension in the gun's voice. „For that, I have openly apologized. I have organized the search for dark energon so that he wouldn't starve if I could help it. Not even the Leader of the Autobots can ask for more."

„The best and only you can do is to accept Megatron's apology, my colleague" Optimus Prime interrupted. „He truly tries his best for all Cybertron, and you seem to fail to recognise it."

„The newcomer." How could a single word sound so freezing cold? „How would you know what the Prime has to withstand because of him? How can you unsee what your friend Megatron has done?"

There was an awful silence for an astrosecond.

_Cold Rodimus is right. How would you know?_

„Your world is not nearly as different from mine as I originally thought. Different events might have shaped us differently, but mechs themselves are exactly the same as those I have known."

Megatron all but fell off as he transformed in astonishment. „Are you sure about that?" he asked.

Both Autobot leaders pulled to the side of the road and returned to their bipedal modes.

„I am" Optimus nodded firmly. „I recognised Soundwave first, your liutenant of devotion and understanding. I met Tankor and Astrotrain, they could hardly be told from the Decepticons I know, only, they weren't given any reason to fight. I watched Wildrider perform the same stunts I have already seen from him. I have heard about Blurr, who was helpful and obsessed with speed. Last night Aira spoke the words that Ariel should have told me long ago. I look at you, Rodimus, and I see the noble and reliable leader my successor will, one day, become. And I can't tell whether it's an insult or not, but the more I watched you, Megatron, the more I realised that deep in your spark you are not at all different from the Megatron I know. You're a great leader, a mech whom others will follow without hesitation, because they trust you know where you're taking them. You won't stop to go around an obstacle, you will diminish it with permanent dedication and strong will. You have a wide scale of emotions from despair to victory, but you hardly show any of it. Nothing but events in your past separate your path from the other Megatron's. Nothing but unfortunate events in his past prevented him from making the decisions you have made. And I fear that many of his actions could have been prevented if I was up to the task of seeing him as a mech of my kind, instead of ignoring everything but the fact that he once killed me."

Was the Prime blaming himself? _What for?_

„He... killed you?" Cold Rodimus frowned.

„I should have seen past beyond his murderous actions. Even you, Megatron, would kill the mech who stands in your way. When I look at you I see a fierce leader who lead Cybertronians to a peace where every bot is content with what they are doing. When you are not provoked, you are open to negotiation, and when I talk to you as a wise leader I always hoped to become, I can't see my enemy anymore. That was Orion's damage – an injury I was carrying all the time. Megatron, thank you for healing my deepest wound."

That was the time when the purple Prime opened fire at the three of them.


	5. Primus's warriors

**Primus's warriors**

The Tarnian delegates were on their way to Crystal City when they caught glimpse of the purple truck-bot firing at the newly renovated highway. Sidetrack was able to roll and fire at the same time, and his shots had been followed by Flak's missiles. The Prime turned around. Pure hatred in his yellow optics was the last thing the two bodybuards had seen before he returned fire and killed them both. _He doesn't even care about the dead victims' frames_ Megatron realised._ He doesn't have a collection to add them to._ The remains of the Cybertronian highway bent as a missile took out the structure. Decimus lost his balance and fell through the emptiness that became his two bodyguards' grave. Optimus transformed to his more endurant and less vulnerable semitruck mode, and rolled out to meet the mech he considered to be his mirror image. Cold Rodimus was about to follow, perhaps hoping to separate the two before they would have killed each other. He almost got shot for his troubles. Megatron caught up with him, and as the Autobot leader tried to transform, he tripped him up.

„Stay away, lad" he advised, and helped his co-leader up.

„We cannot let the Primes fight" Rodimus reasoned. „They are going to kill each other."

Megatron had to admit that the Autobot was right. He hadn't spent the last orns tending to the guest only to see him deactivated again. Not to mention the purple Prime who must have been in a pitiful state of mind to venture this attack.

„Do you have any dark energon left anywhere?" he tried as a last hope._ Is there any chance we could refuel the purple one?_

„No." Rodimus sounded quite aware of what his reply truly meant. „Do you think you could truly kill him?"

That last question still echoed in Megatron's processor as he transformed into his rarely used tank mode and rolled after Optimus. _Soundwave, do you copy? I need you to find Aira. Tell her that the Prime needs her more than ever._ But that wasn't all he had to take into consideration. _And tell Ratbat to fly to the Vault and get the Heart of Cybertron_ he requested. He was still struggling against himself as he considered his options. He could not let the starving Prime run amok on the planet. The Heart was pure, concentrated energon. It would put an end to the purple Prime's suffering.

If the surface of Cybertron had something in common in all universes, it was how little cover the roads provided. They were not meant to be used as battlegrounds. Deep in his spark Optimus Prime had always known that fighting was against Primus's intention, and the way these roads were built had only confirmed his guess.

He had recognised the tank rolling by his side, although it's been a long while he had seen Megatron in this form. They stopped and transformed at the same time, their backs turned protectively against each other's, Optimus Prime's right tailpipe mildly scratching Megatron's left shoulder. Any sane mech would have known better than to challenge the duo.

The dark purple Prime was far from sane.

* * *

His Royal Highness King of Vos was buried deep in technical readouts and energon studies data. He was so close to a scientific breakthrough that he admittedly forgot about the meeting he should have been attending to. But what news would that be? Vos had always been the polity of flight science, its king was expected to be more interested in seeking knowledge, rather than politics. Only, the red, white and blue Seeker was not busy with aeroscience right now. He was working on a vessel that could collect and contain dark energon. The prototype was ready: a mass shifting cube that would have contained the chaos-fuel if there had been any of it around.

„Starscream, you must come at once!" his brother teleported onto the top of the datapad pile His Royal Highness used as a workdesk.

„I know, I know, the road building discussion. What's so important about it?"

Skywarp looked his brother and King in the optics as if he was talking nonsense. Starscream expected him to throw a tantrum about industry requiring raw materials and raw materials requiring roads on which they could be imported. But instead, the black and purple Seeker had said, „Megatron and the guest are beating the crap out of the Prime! You must see this!"

Starscream looked at his prototype cube. Had he been working for vorns in vain? If Megatron finally brought himself to killing the hapless semitruck, why did he Vosians bother with this vessel? His first reaction would have been throwing it out of the window. He only changed his mind because he thought burying it under the datapads of needless research was more appropriate. Then Skywarp grabbed him by the wrist and teleported to the battlefield.

* * *

Megatron wasn't exactly happy to have audience, especially not spectators, but the evil Prime was giving them a good fight. On the short run, he seemed to be strong enough to take on both him and the other Prime, but his hits soon became uncertain, his kicks powerless.

„Try to keep him on the highway level" Megatron muttered. _Where is Ratbat already?_

As if to defy Megatron's will, the purple Prime kicked Optimus in the chest for the last time, then he collapsed. There were no road-barriers that would have held the shaky purple frame as he stumbled away, trying to get on his feet again. He reached the hole his own missiles had hit only a breem before. He fell on his knees, and looked up at his defeaters once more. He stared in the optics of the mech who had caused all his penury, hoping that at least this look would haunt him when he would no longer be able to do so in person. Then he looked into the optics of the other warrior. They had already met once, but then they were both in the dark and they couldn't really see each other. Besides, the other Prime wasn't wearing his mouthplate back then. Now, in the light of Cybertron's three stars, he was unmistakeable. Red truck cabin, blue helmet, cerulean blue optics, and the devotion to fight for what he considered to be the best interest of all beings around him – that was the original Optimus Prime, Primus's most adored trooper. Even the red Autobot insignias on his shoulders were there. Wasn't he supposed to be dead? What was he doing here?

In his struggle to get back on his feet, the evil Prime lost the floor from under his frame and fell limp on the ground below.

There was a moment of silence. Optimus Prime looked down at his defeated mirror image, wondering how far he had come to this point in his long life. Megatron looked in the direction from where Ratbat was expected, then he looked around to find Senator Decimus.

The Tarnian was holding on to the structure of the highway halfway between the road level and the ground. Megatron took out his energon pick and fixed it in a fracture, then he took the cable from the handle and lowered himself, offering a hand to the politician who had gladly accepted it.

„My friend, you see, this is why I have to resign" the politician murmured in a sad tone. „I grew old, old with age and battles we fought for each other. I cannot even transform, my system wouldn't bear the shock. Thank you for being there by my side all the while."

Megatron took Decimus under the armpits. „I will always be there by your side." He was not yet ready to say goodbye, although the politician's status was clear to him. Decimus had always been strong and enduring, but he was not going to function much longer.

The silvery miner pulled the two of them up to the road, trying to ignore the inevitable.

„The famous, fabulous Optimus Prime" the Senator noted as soon as he was back to the street level. „It's a relief of these horrible events to meet a hero like you."

„If I am a hero, I sure don't deserve to be one, Senator" Optimus replied. „You and Megatron have achieved the freedom that I have only been chasing heedlessly."

He might have continued, or maybe Decimus would have replied to the humble answer, but they were interrupted by the terrified shouting of the onlookers. Even the broken Prime's pale yellow optics seemed to light up as he stared at Cybertron's sky.

The monstrosity that appeared above their heads was one of the most feared entities of the multiverse, the greatest nightmare of a sleeping god. He was partly gray, but mostly orange. He arrived in his planet mode, in the shape he was once forced to take, and perhaps the only thing he had in common with Primus. He must have got the news of the truest and original Optimus Prime vacating in the world that had once been his follower's realm. Optimus Prime, the over-praised hero, Primus's Autobot icon. The Prime who had escaped him when he overcame death and spoiled the Quintessons' plot. The one who had humiliated the purple Prime he was forced to abandon. The Optimus Prime who had teamed up with this Megatron, the one who defeated his top herald and truest follower. These had been deeds that Unicron was not willing to tolerate.

_MASTER! _Megatron mentally screamed. His face, however, only expressed his readiness for combat.

„He does not have a chance" Cold Rodimus stated in a calm voice. He and Megatron looked around, taking in the sight of Cybertronians coming from all directions, ready to defend their home and their creator. The Autobot leader spoke up, addressing his words to the mechs and femmes all around him. „As long as we keep together, we are strong. We cannot let him divide us, do you hear me?"

„Sounds like a plan" Megatron agreed. It was a fact that Primus was strong in this universe, stronger than anywhere else. The Cybertroniand were strong, because they were not divided, nor decimated by war. If they could form a united front, Unicron would run into his destiny much like the purple Prime had. Which reminded him to...

„Get the broken one home" he whispered to Cold Rodimus. He wasn't sure he could do anything about the evil mech with Unicron watching him. _Fraggit, Aira, how could you abandon him when you were the only one for him?_

He looked up, hoping to have heard the helicopter femme's clappering engines. Instead, he had seen the pure white Ultra Magnus rolling towards him, guided by the tiny, electrum-covered Ratbat. There was something oddly familiar with the youngster's energy sigature, as if he was hiding something in his cargo hold.

_Did First tell you to take the Star Saber shard from the Vault, too?_ he guessed.

Ultra Magnus transformed, and proved Megatron right. He was wielding a part of the weapon that once Prima was carrying. After being broken, the sword was turned into a gestalt and given to the only combining member of the Original Thirteen. After the gestalt members of Nexus Prime had lost each other, one part of the Star Saber was secured in Megatron's mines. The silvery miner was told that, in theory, the fragment would become a smaller but functioning weapon, just like its gestalt wielder, but it refused to do so. _It must have been waiting for a worthy carrier._ Apparently, it was waiting for Ultra Magnus to come around. _Sparkling, it's never too early to start._

„He may be the Unmaker but even he can be hurt!" the white one stated, showing up the legendary blade. The crowd cheered._ How could there be so many of us, suddenly?_ It looked like Primus had summoned them all here, to the capitol of cooperation. Almost like an army.

„Very well" Megatron said. He offered his arm to Ratbat, who had gently laid the Heart of Cybertron crystal on his palm before attaching himself to the Decepticon leader's wrist. The green crystal's light covered the field in powerful green light.

_Definitely a plan. _He looked at Optimus, who was looking at him. They both blinked up at the planet-eater, and made their decision without as much as saying a beep. He turned back to the crowd.

„We will need transport. A ship, to up there" Megatron requested aloud. He didn't expect any of the ship-formers to volunteer.

„Take the Ally" Decimus replied immediately. The Decepticon accepted the offer with a nod. The Tarnian's elegant ship, one that reminded Optimus of the Nemesis he once tried to outmaneuver, had approached the barrierless wide Cybertronian highway on a shortwave radio command.

„Cold Rodimus, you are in charge here. Ultra Magnus, it's been a real honor" Megatron spoke up. „Optimus, come. We need to board that planetoid over there."

„Give him the worst case of indigestion!" Ultra Magnus shouted as a goodbye cheer.

This time, the Prime seemed to be hesitating. Was it really wise to leave Cybertron's defense to a sparkling? But then, was there anything else to do?

Somewhere above them, a mostly black, and a red and white Seeker had appeared in the air. At Unicron's sight, the black one released his brother's wrist and disappeared.

„Coward!" His Royal Highness Kig of Vos shouted at the empty air where his brother had been.

In fact, Skywarp was far from being a coward. He only had an idea, one that could solve their leader's two problems at the same time. He reappeared soon, and this time, he was holding the empty cube that Starscream had been working on. He landed, and placed the vessel in Optimus Prime's hands just as the duo was about to enter the Ally's hold.

Megatron turned back. He took in the sight of the many Transformers who had gathered around, all of them expecting him to fight off the huge orange menace, but ready to continue his fight if he failed.

He wasn't the mech to give speeches. He didn't need to tell them to fight if they had to.

„Do it for Cybertron" was all he had to say.

* * *

The Ally was a fast ship, and Megatron hoped that this flight wouldn't take long. He was holding the Heart crystal, watching the Prime piloting towards the hungry monster. The cube was set next to him, an innocent-looking object that could contain considerable amount of the dark fuel. He hoped this would work. He hoped harvesting dark energon would discourage the God of Chaos from ever returig to this world. He hoped he wouldn't have to use the Heart. He hoped he wouldn't have to kill his true Master's sole brother, even if his death would be temporary.

„Are you ready?" he asked as the Ally approached the orange giant.

„Readier than I ever was" Optimus replied. „That kick didn't do much good to my abridgers, but otherwise, I am fine and ready for combat." What he was careful not to say: he was glad that he wouldn't need to be fighting his own kin, this time. If only he also had the Matrix, he would have felt perfect. Or something similar to that. „But what has befallen to the Senator?" he suddenly asked. He had never before seen a Transformer too old to transform. He had heard about one case, but he didn't believe the rumors until now.

„He was sparked back when the Fallen's presence had soiled our world" Megatron explained. „Our time is much more limited than yours. Soundwave doesn't transform much either." Optimus nodded, uncertain if it was a good idea to ask. He tried to remember the old mech he heard about, but all he could recall was his golden shine and his courage. He was not really a fighter, yet he was more inspiring than anyone expected the wily old buzzard to be. In this aspect, he reminded of this odd Megatron in a way.

The two great horns of the vast orange being filled the windscreens. Two sets of razors chomped as the planetoid's gravity pulled the Ally closer.

AT LEAST YOU COME WHEN YOU ARE SUMMONED.

Megatron subspaced the crystal he was holding. He figured it would be understood as a weapon against the great orange entity, and he was not going to negotiate while holding an object that could possibly kill his interlocutor.

„You know why we came" he said, as if he was the one who asked for the Chaos-bringer's presence. „Let's get through this fast and let all of us go our own ways, unharmed. I only need dark energon to fuel the purple Prime."

Apparently Unicron wasn't i the mood to listen.

SURRENDER THE RED PRIME AND I WILL SPARE YOUR PATHETIC PLANET.

_Now that sounded very convincing_ Megatron thought, but before he could have declined the offer, Unicron made a movement that could have been the start of his transformation. Megatron quickly grabbed the steering sticks and pulled the ship to the left before they would have crashed into Unicron's vulnerable optics. He had learned the hard way to take care of his opponent's health, and he was not going to make the same mistake twice.

„Where to?" Optimus Prime asked, turning away so that Megatron could take the pilot's seat.

„Out of his sensor's range" the silvery mech replied. He hoped that the Ally was **that** fast and maneuverable.

„Behind his back. Wise" Optimus nodded.

They passed the barren surface. It was vast but uninhabited and seemingly lifeless, and from this proximity, the surfaces looked more like rusty than orange. It was so dry, Megatron couldn't help but think about how much it could have been similar to Primus's surface in a much less fortunate universe.

They landed on a plain that still looked metallic gray despite the rust on the other surfaces. Megatron noted the beckoning receiving signal he had been hoping for.

„I'm glad that you came this fast" Primon greeted them on the planetoid's dark grey surface. „What's that cube? Its structure looks familiar."

„Starscream's compliment" Megatron explained. „It's supposed to collect dark energon from its surroundings."

Primon seemed to be confused for a moment, then laughed at how much this cube was the opposite of the vessel he had compared it to.

„Well, then" he said. „I think I've found a perfect place for it."

The two leaders followed him silently. Megatron noted how First's attitude has changed. Not that he couldn't explain it: the Matrix and its collected wisdom was Primus's most important weapon against the Chaos-bringer, and his Master had become one with it many vorns ago. He should have never been separated from it, in the first place. It was Liege Maximo who screwed it all up. But without Liege, and without the Fallen trapping him in this universe, First would have never bought Megatron. They decided not to lament about what had happened.

First guided them to a hole that lead under the rusty surface. Megatron wasn't too thrilled to find out what was below. He could feel the presence of the Unmaker under his feet, even though he was sure the dark god had lost them.

_He looks so abandoned._

„It's because he doesn't treat his heralds very well. The only one I've seen him being nice to was a pink horse in a distant universe."

_Well, at least he has a chaotic pink horse._ Not that Megatron knew what a horse was.

After a few attempts, it turned out that the hole was too tight for the cube, but Megatron was persistent to get it down to its correct place. Optimus helped him with his rarely used axe, cutting the opening wider so that the cube could be pressed through. When it still wouldn't move, Megatron started kicking it to its correct place. _Starscream said this thing was mass-shifting!_

Behind him, Optimus's glee was evident despite his mouthplate.

„I never imagined I would see you kicking Unicron's aft... literally."

„Actually, he's kicking a much more sensitive part" Primon gloated.

_What the rust._ Megatron had never heard his Master gloating before.

Not that this happiness had lasted long. Before he could have even voiced his doubts about Starscream's completency, First shouted „Prime! Your weapons!" as a dozen of dark purple drones bolted towards them.

„You are my weapon!" Optimus shouted at the mech who was the Matrix himself. He didn't even remember if he was buried with his laser blaster, and he definitely couldn't remember if or when he used it after his dark awakening.

„And Megatron is mine!" Apart from the Decepticon, First was just as unarmed as his bearer.

„Don't we all belong to Primus?" the silvery mech joined the shouting. With a final effort, he managed to kick the cube through the hole to the larger hall below, where it truly started to mass-shift. What had once been a cube of transportable size, had grown into a cube of the large room's size, and started pulling the drones to itself like a magnet would pull scrap metal. The three mechs sighed in unison as the rust-planet's aimed weapons turned from their sparks' directions.

„I take back whatever I said about Starscream's mental capacity" Megatron added.

„Ugh, that's a lot" Optimus grinned with relief.

First walked to the hole and glimpsed down. The cube's surface lit up each time it absorbed a purple drone, but there were many, many more coming their way.

„We should move" he suggested. „This will take a while."

„Yes, Master." _I hope it can be shrunk back down when it's full, though._

Next to him, Optimus stared. He looked at Primon, who had called Megatron his weapon only half a breem ago. Then he looked at the miner, who had adressed the Matrix as „Master" in his own hearing. And how often he'd heard Megatron talking about his former Master with the same adoration shining in his optics as when he had looked at the blue and light gray mech!

„First?" he asked cautiously.

„Yes" Primon smiled back at him. „Though I never heard you call me like that before."

It all made sense. They had to come to the surface of Unicron for that realisation, but now it was all clear. He was facing the first Autobot, the first Matrix-bearer, maybe the first Transformer ever created by Primus.

And, apparently, the mech who had owned Megatron when he was younger.

„Come" the old one called for them. „We need to get away from here before Unicron sends his heavy artillery. That cube might not be very comfortable right under his plating."

He guessed it right. A much larger creation rose from somewhere behind the rusty horizon, and the giant's fists had almost crushed them before he was pulled into the cube like his foregoers.

„What was it?" Megatron stared. _He looked like a possessed rock lord._

„An avatar" Primon replied. „There would be plenty more on the surface."

„We need to get rolling now" Optimus Prime decided. He transformed, testing his tyres' adhesion on the seemingly rusty surface. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he was not the first Prime rolling on Unicron's body. First hitched a ride on the top of his trailer. Oddly enough, he didn't seem to weight more than what the Matrix normally did. Megatron transformed into a tiny pistol in Primon's hand. He didn't want to know how much attention his tank mode would attract.

It was all dark and hostile. Optimus was rolling as stealthly as he could. How stealthy a Prime can be on the surface of Unicron? Off-duty Prime, Optimus reminded himself. He didn't have the Matrix of Leadership in his chest. Well, he was carrying him on the top of his trailer. Does that count, he wondered. One way or the other, his vacation was over. He didn't know if he was going to die (again) or will he make it back to his world, his Autobots and his Elita. He was missed as much as he missed them, but they must have believed him to be dead after breaking free from Quintesson control.

Primon felt lost, almost like when he first found himself in the world that later became his refuge and his friends' home. He wasn't even on Cybertron now. But the best Prime was there with him. And he was holding the gun that was his most precious friend. If he was going to die again, he would do so in good company. He didn't have illusions about survival, the Matrix was a weapon against chaos, annihilated alongside with it in every victory. Megatron was his anchor to this world ever since he had uploaded all his accumulated knowledge into his processors so long ago. He'd remembered as if it was happening right then, on the rust-covered hostile landscape. Until that upgrade, Megatron was hardly more to him than the rest of the miners, a friend he could share his thoughts with, but not a partner he would rely on. He wasn't even sure if the imprinting had happened the way he intended, and he was starting to worry that he had claimed Megatron's spark despite his best intentions. He had the thought transmitter installed, hoping to catch a vagrant idea that could have informed him of Megatron's true ownership, but for long, the transmitter remained silent as if it wasn't there. With the Fallen's Autobot followers plotting against him, he was running out of time. His own doubts conspired against him until he decided to go and ask Megatron openly. That was when the cave-in occured and Megatron shouted at him like no slave would shout at his master. He had proof, but he was afraid that it cost him the silvery miner. Then, only then, the transmitter activated. But there was something more, something worse to do. He had to charge Megatron with the hardest burden of all: leadership. It was a mad and desperate idea to upload the whole content of the Matrix into that brilliant and eager mind he caught a glimpse of. Megatron was never meant to be his carrier, his whole self refused the mental upgrade and fought back the incoming data, but it was either that or leaving him alone against the Fallen's crew.

Soon, he got wind of the plan to destroy the mines and take the shortcut to Primus's core. He informed Decimus about his plans regarding the silvery leader, and the politician suggested that he prepared the trusted mech for the unavoidable battle.

He had ordered Megatron to dig out what could have been the defenders' last stand in an underground battle, and he made sure to gather every information that Megatron could have needed for the fight. It was the second upload, one that was merely done when Impactor was captured. Then, it was all up to Primus's grace. First died and had no contact from this world until his self-trained bearer told Primus that he was ready and willing to take his namesake's task as the chaos balancer. Megatron was his anchor and his pledge was the chain that pulled him back to this world. Of course he kept helping him whenever he could and had to. That was what they were doing now.

Megatron felt a little out of place. His bond to First wasn't nearly as strong as Primon's connection to the Prime, and he had only known Optimus for a few orns. Also, he was away from his real Master for the first time in his life. He rested in Primon's hand, taking in the view through what was normally his fusion cannon, his trophy and memento of defeating the late Megatronus Prime.

_Wait._

„What is it?" First asked.

_There's something Unicron doesn't want you to find._

First released him, and Megatron transformed back to his primary mode. Optimus stopped just a metric away from hitting him.

„I can't see it now" he whispered in astonishment. _I swear I saw something._

Optimus made a guess. „Did you see it through your scope?"

Megatron nodded.

„Let's try if I can see it too" First said.

The silvery miner transformed back to the Matrix's humble pistol so that Primon could look around through his targeting sight.

„You're seeing exactly what Unicron wouldn't like us to see" First stated. „He created your cannon, he cannot hide from what's powered by him. This way!"

The Matrix guided Optimus to a pale gray metal wall and down a corridor that led deeper into Unicron's body. They passed drones that were holding on to Unicron's structure against the cube's pull, but they often came across battalions of different drones that had given in to the pull and flew harmlessly by. _Starscream is a genius._

They came to a halt in a shadowy cave that seemed to be made of space junk and some odd organic matter. Optimus and Primon felt palpable evil around the place, Megatron was surprised how the ratio of the organic and metallic matter differed when he was not watching through his arm-mounted cannon. His electrosonic sensor informed him of a tiny chamber behind the wall.

„It continues in his personal subspace" Primon explained in a suspicious tone. „Just let me reach in there."

Megatron was not reluctant to start mining as if he was at home. No... he was outright disgusted of the idea.

„Don't be finicky" First teased him. He was also tense and wary, and he still had no idea what he was going to find.

„Please" Optimus added. „Whatever evil is awaiting us there, we have to face it."

Megatron pulled his energon pick from his subspace, and stared at it as if he was saying goodbye to the graceful old blade. It was more than a tool, it was a part of him. Memories surfaced as the sturdy fingers wrapped themselves around the precious handle. Then he muttered „Step aside" and got down to work.

He was picking in relatively soft material, but he still felt that he was working slower than he intended to. What started as a fracture grew into a bend, the bend became a hole, the hole was slowly extended into a nook, the nook was enlarged to a chamber. Then, as he was about to pull the energon pick back with a sigh of relief and he prepared to push the electrosonic sensor to the wall, the point of the glowing pink tool cut into what could only be a dark energon duct. The sound of the explosion could not suppress the painful cry that could be heard from all around.

The explosion flew Megatron back. He was soaked with dark energon to his shoulders, with only a fragment of the energon pick's handle left in his hand. _I will need to take a bath in the rust to get this slag off me._ „I broke through. Master, it's your turn."

First wasn't exactly enthusiastic to step into the pool of dark energon on the floor.

„Who is finicky now?" Megatron asked as he tried to clear at least his hands from the hated material.

His master gave him a sympathetic look. He surely hadn't found Megatron esthetically pleasing at the moment. Primon grimaced at his own hands, then reached into the crater. It only took him a few astroseconds to find what he was looking for, and he carefully started pulling what Unicron had been hiding in his personal dimension.

It started with a tentacle, almost black, only Optimus's lights had proven it to be dark green. It was as limp as if it belonged to a dead creature. Primon reached into the extradimensional storage, and soon he brought another dark green tentacle to this world.

„Pull!"

Both Optimus and Megatron grabbed a darkness-soaked tentacle, and did their best to pull it out of the fracture. Soon Primon could free a third tentacle, then a fourth, then a broken horn that must have been curvy and elegant before its rightous owner fell into the possession of the Chaos-bringer.

„Careful!" Primon hissed as they helped the large spiky head out. „Just one last pull."

Soon, the trio could see the whole spiky green body. It was large and doubtlessly offline.

_Oh, slag._

„Oh, no" Optimus stared with little to no compassion.

„Oh, brother" Primon murmured.

The normally calculating loner looked as if he had been brutally tortured, although no physical damage was visible except for his complete lack of energon.

„He'd been drained" First whispered. He knelt down to examine the body, hoping to find a trace of life somewhere below the vast green chest panels. He wondered if it looked any similar when this mech was tearing his dead body open, taking the Matrix of Leadership from its first bearer's lifeless body, and leaving him an easy prey to the Fallen.

„Do you think we should repower him?" Optimus asked.

„Do we have the means to do that?" Primon asked back.

„We do." When Primon looked up, Megatron was already telling Optimus to take the Heart of Cybertron from his subspace. _I promised to do him a favor once._

Optimus knelt down next to Primon, and ran a quick finger over the energon-less structure of the Liege. First assisted him: they paid attention to wire the Heart close to the spark, so that it could jump-start the most important parts once the crystal destabilized.

„It will be like an explosion" the Prime recalled.

„That's what we need" Megatron nodded in the background. He knew better than to touch the green crystal with dark energon on his hands.

When the inside of the patient's chest started to heat up with green light as energon floaded his body, Optimus gently closed the chest panels. He wasn't sure reviving the embodiment of Primus's evil was a good idea, but this was the least he could do after the repairs he received.

„Thank you" Primon said. Optimus stood up, his hesitant gaze met Megatron's glance. They didn't need to say a word.

Primon, the first of all Transformers, oldest of the Original Thirteen, and last but not least: the Matrix himself, leant close to the dark green mech. He made sure that he was the first thing his brother saw after he booted, making him believe that he had been revived by the Matrix like it had happened to Primes more than once. He figured that his murderer deserved at least a prank like that.

Red optics onlined on the shadowy dark face, then an elemental „NOOOOOOOO!" shook the whole planetoid. Primon looked into those optics, as if he was impartial to the loud scream.

„It's nice to have you back" he greeted his younger brother.

„Noooooo..."

Primon pretended not to understand. „No what?" he asked.

„Tell me you didn't revive me."

Megatron silently chuckled in the background._ It was team work._

Primon kept up his serious facade.

„Darkness creates light and light creates darkness" he preached. „You and I are..."

„Didn't you DARE!"

Primon helped his larger brother sit up, and when Liege Maximo looked around, he smiled all-knowingly. Next to him, the Liege recognised the Megatron who turned his offers down.

„Didn't you dare!" he said, this time slightly calmer than before.

„No" First finally assured him. „We had a spare Heart of Cybertron with us as we marooned Unicron, and we weren't looking for you. Although I have to admit I was worried when Retcon told me what was left of your Hub."

„I will have it rebuilt!" the Thirteen's darkest Transformer promised. „And the next Hub will witness Unicron's downfall, I swear to you. I will find a way to let all of you see it!" He struggled to stand up, and finally, he succeeded.

„What did he do to you?" Megatron queried.

„What did he **try**" Liege Maximo corrected him. „He was about to kill me so that I would have become his champion. Don't ask how he expected that to happen."

„He might have mistaken you for Nova Prime" Primon guessed.

_Now that was an insult._ Megatron knew that Liege Maximo took particular joy and pride in not being a Prime; in being everything a Prime was not.

The dark green being took in his surroundings. He easily recognised the planet-formed Unicron below their feet, but he didn't yet know what to think about the odd flux of dark energon and the Chaos-God's drones randomly flying by. But he wasn't created to speculate. He was the Light's darkest warrior, and he had work to do.

"Have I ever thanked you, brother?" he asked.

"Thank me what?" Primon stared.

"Anything."

"No."

"Then I hope you don't expect me to start it now." With that, he stormed down into a metallic tunnel down to Unicron's core, intent on attacking the relatively vulnerable head of the Chaosbringer that was hidden in the centre. A loud "I will rip your face off!" was the last they had heard of him.

"And he calls himself the antithesis of all Primes" Primon sighed.

Megatron noticed Optimus's troubled expression behind the mouthplate, but he decided not to comment on it. Liege Maximo was definitely a troublesome mech when he was on the loose, but if Primus decided to create him, who would he be to criticise their creator?

His gaze fell on his hands, and he watched the dark energon slowly drying off as it was pulled to the cube Starscream created. _We should get going before we take too much._

First agreed with him. As the Matrix, he should have been the one seeking Unicron's destruction, but he decided against it. „Let's go home before Liege gets to his core" he said.

It was easy to find the way back to the cube: they only had to follow the drones and drops of dark energon being pulled in the same direction. Megatron descended to the room to see if he could compress the cube to its inactive but transportable mode before it would dry out Unicron completely. As he touched the cube at one corner, he heard the rasp of transformation at the opposite end, and soon he could see small square-shaped panels of the vessel flipping and turning into each other, slipping, folding, shrinking. He wondered if he was imagining things or maybe he really felt damned sparks being trapped inside. From what he heard about the Unmaker, he only had power above those who gave in to him, but how many could they be? And could they possibly be redeemed somehow?

He looked around, checking if there were any drones or avatars waiting for the opportunity to attack him, but there was no movement at all. This cube must have been a foul blow for the Chaosbringer. _At least the purple Prime won't have to starve anymore._ Megatron was about to get out with the vessel when he spotted the yellowish purple dew on the walls. _Master, what is this? It looks like some kind of moisture._ His thought transmitter aired a well detailed picture of the material to First_. I'm sure it wasn't here when we arrived._

„Angolmois" Primon replied. „Get out of there and don't touch it! It's pure chaos, and it can do really unpredictable things. To Unicron, it's like what light is to Primus" he explained.

_It must have been sucked out from the walls by the cube. He sweated angolmois_. Megatron grabbed the vessel and tried to push it out through the hole it was pressed in, but of course it was just as tight as it was from the other direction.

„Optimus! Could you please cut the hole a little wider?" If only he had his energon pick.

The Prime gave it a try. He activated his hardly used yellow laser axe, and got down to work. He'd cut through the rusty metal panels, but when the tool's edge actually reached the wet layer, the axe suddenly got replaced by a nazzle with a hose.

„What am I expected to do with that?" he stared. However, the cut was deep enough that one last kick could break the panel, making free way for Megatron and the cube. They could have gotten the vessel out fast and painlessly, but a shudder passed through Unicron just when the silvery miner was about to get out from the room.

„Liege must have reached his center" Primon informed them. „Hurry!"

_I would_ Megatron moaned after his head had collided with the ceiling and the angolmois reacted with his gray helmet, turning it into deep lavender purple, and upgrading it with three ridiculous spikes like some hugely impractical crown. _I will need a new helmet_ he murmured.

Finally, they got the cube and Megatron out, and the miner had never been more thankful for being brought to the surface. They started running to the Ally when Unicron shivered again, and this time, angolmois started seeping out from his gaps.

_Liege doesn't seem to go easy with him. _

The metal shook under their feet again, more violently than before. It looked as if Unicron was trying to transform again, but got distracted halfway. Optimus seemed to have lost his balance, and he fell to the rusty ground. Megatron was immediately there to help him up.

„Come!"

Optimus Prime tried to hurry, but it was a lot easier said than done. He struggled to keep his body in position, he struggled to get back to the Ally, he struggled against the all too familiar pain that stabbed his chest with every movement.

„What happened?"

„My abridger" Optimus managed. „There was only one of them functional..."

Megatron helped him up the Ally's ramp, then he returned to collect the cube. He had to get it, for the purple Prime he felt responsible for.

But he never reached that cube.

Unicron's body shivered for the last time, and a large drop of angolmois fell on the dark vessel. The liquid chaos came into reaction with the artifact without any sentient mech's intention. Subsequently it turned the collected dark energon into the purest energy: life itself. Unicron, with the last of his strength, reached out for the device so new and dangerous and ultimately alien to him, and it vanished from the three Cybertronians' view moments before Megatron could have grabbed it.

* * *

There was a dimension where Unicron never intended to materialize. It was illuminated by explosions, and most of its inhabitants seemed to be either annoying or lacked any characteristics. Cybertron was a lonely dark planet in there, much like how Primus's body looked before their eternal fight. Without much thinking, Unicron chose this world to get rid of the Cube that was now ready to fill anything with life. Little did he care about the new Cybertronians he was creating. He had been drained too much, Primus's accursed warriors were still running on his surface, not to mention Liege Maximo whom he couldn't fight back as long as the cube was pulling away all his weapons.

The cube floated around the uninhabited Cybertron, then fell to the surface barely avoiding Simfur. It filled the lonesome planet with life, and its inhabitants never got to know where it came from. Oddly enough, it was this world that later witnessed the Fallen returning to Primus's servitude.

* * *

Megatron couldn't have cared less about the world where the now-useless cube disappeared. He didn't even worry about the starving Prime. He was much more concerned with the functioning of the Optimus Prime he had been trusted with. The Prime wasn't in the shape to fly the Ally, but the drops of angolmois changed the Tarnian senator's diplomatic ship into an Autobot cruiser and only Prime could pilot that.

Primon was standing at a window, looking worriedly at the weakened Unicron. The orange monstrosity was struggling against an enemy deep inside his core, finally free of the cube and the Matrix. First could only hope that Liege Maximo would take care of himself this time. Unicron was weakened, defeated maybe, but he was still the Unmaker and the bringer of Chaos, and their ship was still too close to him.

_Master, there's something wrong with the Prime!_

Primon knew. He knew that Optimus's abridger was dislocated and he would have needed professional care to keep him online, and he would have gladly helped if he hadn't had even more worrying problems at the moment, one that could have consumed all three of them. He was the Matrix, he knew his Primes from the inside out. He was aware of Optimus's feelings, he shared his pains and his victories. He understood and respected his decisions, and this time, his request was that he saved this peaceful world, not him, who had been through death already.

„See you soon, my Prime" he whispered as the damaged abridger gave out and Optimus's heavy frame stiffed motionlessly in the pilot's seat.

Just outside the ship-turned-cruiser, Unicron's struggling body exploded like a very odd star, his remains scattered about the deep space as a glowing red radiation.

„Hate plague spores!" he realised. There was no time for more explanation. He called out for his brother, for the guardian of time and space, hoping that Vector Prime would confine the spreading disease that was Unicron's only local trace. They had done their part, the rest was up to Retcon.

But he was sure that saving Megatron was still his task to do.

„Come, before we'd get infected!" he said as he grabbed his utmost confused miner and teleported from the ship. Vector Prime appeared to reconnect two worlds for a moment. He transferred what had remained of the Ally, with the Prime inside and Unicron's body exploding into hate plague spores around it.


	6. As for the future

**As for the future**

The Autobot cruiser that used to be the Ally, with the offline but otherwise repaired Optimus Prime on board and Unicron's body exploding into hate plague spores near it, had been pushed into the universe from where Optimus had previously been taken away. Liege Maximo took care of Unicron's chaotic essence and his remaining dark energon, bringing him to a world where the rebuilt Hub could constantly monitor him. Vector Prime gave all participants one last look, then he settled back to his refuge away from normal time and space.

Megatron moved slowly, barely avoiding discovery by Aira who kept vigil in the main room. The purple Prime did not even tolerate her in his presence, but he was also too weak to move. Megatron watched silently as his nemesis struggled to sit up in the austere berthroom. He tried to get dark energon for the unfortunate mech, he tried and failed. But now he had come to end his sufferings forever.

He remembered the cube that Primon later identified as an escape pod of all doomed sparks. _The Chaosbringer was so drained at the end, he didn't even have control over the angolmois_. Megatron suppressed a proud grin. If Unicron killed him the next time they met, maybe it wouldn't even be rightous to complain. This had not been a fair victory. In fact, it wasn't a victory on either side. Optimus Prime, the mech he was trusted with, and whom he had respected as Primon's worthiest partner and bearer of the Matrix, was offline and dangerously close to the glowing red seeds of the exploding dark god. First told him that he'd already met the Prime fully repaired and restored in his own world, so maybe it was overkill to worry for the red and blue and gray semitruck. Perhaps it was just that he could not even say goodbye, but Primon assured him that this wasn't the last time they had met.

_Just tell him that I send my best regards_, and he tried not to feel bad for what had happened.

The purple Prime's collection had been wiped out completely, Megatron could by no means hide in the spacious dark room. Fading yellow optics stared at him with hatred, anger and fear. The broken mech was too weak to call for help, and Megatron doubted he had much to say to him. He patted the broken Prime's purple frame, then he reached for his fusion cannon.

He was surprised that he never thought about this before, or maybe he had, but hadn't liked the idea and threw it away. Now he had no other choice.

He detached the cannon from his arm, removing the weapon he once took from his namesake and carried around like a trophy ever since. He considered it to be a part of his frame by now, belonging to him like some gruesome property. It was only the discovery of Liege Maximo that reminded him of what it really was: a powerful weapon once created by Unicron, and its power source was the Chaosbringer himself. That was exactly what he needed. He felt an almost physical pain as he opened the casing of the black tube, breaking a peg off during the process. He didn't care. He was not going to wear that weapon anymore.

He stepped closer to the Prime, and looked him in those fading optics. What did he expect to see? Forgiveness? Understanding? Appreciation of his sacrifice? Afterall, he was giving up something that became a part of him many hundreds of vorns ago.

He opened the purple mech's chest panels, and got down to the delicate work of wiring the fusion cannon's dark power source to the mech who required it. The cannon had worked fine even when Primus's most dedicated slave was using it, Megatron was sure that it would also provide enough fuel for the menacing Prime. He gave up his treasured weapon to the enemy he created by himself, not only because he still blamed himself for Hunter of War's fate, but because this was the only right thing to do.

When he was done with the wiring and his fusion cannon was no more, Megatron stepped back and watched the purple Prime gradually regaining his former strength. Everything seemed to be going fine, so far. He wondered how Optimus was doing in that other universe – the last time he'd seen his charge, the red truckformer was more dead than not.

For some odd reason, a graffiti popped up in his processor, a line that had been written on the Hastak ramp's wall only an orn before.

_„Three things are present in all universes: Primus, Unicron, and the death of Optimus Prime."_

He mentally smirked at the remark, accusing Retcon of leaving that statement.

* * *

Thank you for reading Shattered Prime! The last, one-shot piece of the series is alreadu up. You can find Shattered to the last here:

w s/10477207/1/


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